


Purgatory Line

by RockWithItWriting



Series: Purgatory Line - The Continuations [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dad!Dean, Dean Winchester is Loved, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything Hurts, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Winchester Characters, Past Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Teen Angst, father!dean winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 83,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: sometimes finding yourself is hard. sometimes finding your father is harder.(this was my nanowrimo project for this year. trigger warnings before each chapter, updated weekly. this is a vent fic! a lot of this is taken from my own trauma.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dad!Dean/Original Female Characters, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Purgatory Line - The Continuations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610368
Comments: 35
Kudos: 31





	1. “hello, this is reality callin’, wishing you’d pick up the phone. it’s okay, you’re gonna be alright, you don’t have to suffer alone. it’s hard but you’ve got to answer me.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=YzdiMjRhMjRhNjM3MjI3MDJkMjc4ZmI5NTU3M2VhNzJmMmM3NGY4NixsNG1ieVh0NQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189688662604%2Fch1-hello-this-is-reality-callin-wishing&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NGI4NTc0ZjRkMzVkMmFiNTFkNDgyNmI2NjY5MzFjZTRhY2ZlMmVmNyxsNG1ieVh0NQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189688662604%2Fch1-hello-this-is-reality-callin-wishing&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude whipped around with her sawed off in her sweaty hands when she heard the branches snapping behind her. Desmond had given her a direct order - don’t move, shoot whatever shows up and if the bullets don’t kill it then cut its head off. Her breath stuttered in her chest as the shadow of a man approached her.

“Who are you?” Her voice was hard and solid, unlike the thoughts whirling in her head. A man, tall and screaming authority, was standing in the shadows a few feet in front of her. The full moon did nothing to her visibility. She couldn’t see him. “Answer me or I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Jude snarled, her voice gnarled and twisted into something like anger.

“I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.” She bared her teeth at him, taking several quick steps toward Castiel. Jude went through the steps in a flash: she doused him with holy water and then ran a salted knife over the palm of his hand. “I am not a demon, child. I am here to hunt a nest of vampires with my team.” Jude’s eyebrows raised and she cocked her shotgun. He was a little too rigid and to-the-point. She didn’t trust it.

“It’s my hunt,” She growled, “So fuck off., Castiel supposed angel of the Lord.”

“Such vulgar language for a child.” Castiel cocked his head, looking confused. Jude hesitated, but her trigger finger was itching. She had more pressing problems than the angel - he wasn’t alone. Jude could see them because they weren’t exactly small, per se. But, they were valiantly trying to sneak through the shadows behind Castiel. Jude looked between them and the man in front of her, trying to figure out who was the lesser of two evils. Eventually, Jude settled on her ability to physically bring the man in the trench coat down, relying on her shotgun for the other two men.

Jude kept her voice low, but called out to the men. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, boys. I don’t miss when I take my shots, and this is my hunt.”

The men approached her and, damn it, they just seemed to get taller. Jude cursed herself for drawing attention to herself instead of just shooting the damn men. The shorter of the duo had damn near a foot on her own height, and the other one had nearly a foot and a half. Jude locked her knees and jaw, mostly so they didn’t shake. “Names. Give ‘em to me.”

The shorter one gave her a cocky grin. “How do we know you aren’t some Fae, tryin’ to steal 'em?”

“I ain’t askin’, bud. What are your names?” Jude moved her finger to the trigger, teeth bared and ready to shoot. “I suggest you start talkin’. There aren’t salt rounds loaded into this fuckin’ gun, so it’ll do a lot more than just smart for awhile.” The man raised his eyebrows and looked to his partners. Jude ignored him when he called her feisty, but mostly because the other man raised his hands in surrender.

“We’re Sam and Dean WInchester. That’s Castiel.” He had a placating look on his face, like he knew she would shoot if given the chance. Jude couldn’t deny, she really wanted to shoot them. She wasn’t sure if it was the order that Desmond had given her or the fear of being so outnumbered with only a shotgun in her hands. Jude wasn’t sure which was Sam and which was Dean, but together they made Sam and Dean, and that was enough for her. She knew of the names, but not a lot. The names were whispered in the Roadhouse by other hunters and sometimes even by Ellen and Jo, themselves. “What’s your name?” The taller brother tried to smile at her, but it ended up being more of a grimace. Jude grimaced right back, clenching her teeth together.

“Sunny Smith.” She ground out. It was only a half truth, but that by default made it a half lie, as well. “I’m on this hunt with my stepfather, and y'all better get the fuck out before he comes out of the barn or he’ll have my hide and yours. You can stick around if you think I’m joshin’ you.” The shorter man bit out a growl that was familiar to the girl. She had made that sound, too. In fact, she had just made that sound at Castiel, who was standing between Jude and the boys like he had nothing better to do.

“No way in hell. We’ve been tracking this nest for ages-” The shorter man pointed a finger at her and took a step forward, and Jude nearly pulled the trigger. She opened her mouth to bark out another order, but the relative silence of the night was broken.

Jude recognized the gnarly scream echoing through the empty fields. Abject terror seized at her heart and she turned on a heel and all but disappeared into the barn. She dropped her gun on the pile of their bags, swooping to snag her machete. “Desmond!” Jude scaled the side of the barn with ease, up a drain pipe and onto an outcropped roof, before she disappeared into a window on the second floor. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she dropped down onto the rotting wood of the barn’s loft.

It was an old barn, but she had expected that. What she had not expected was the overwhelming smell of oil and the tang of blood in the air. Jude’s lungs constricted, fighting against the acrid scent, but she pushed forward. She was leaping off of the loft directly onto the back of a vampire by the time the trio of men made it into the barn, swinging her machete around and driving it into the front of the vampire’s neck. The vampire made a gurgling sound and Jude took him down, stomping on the machete to get the leverage she needed to fully behead him. She reared back up, swiping her machete at another vampire that was coming at her just as Sam, Dean, and Castiel jumped down from the loft above.

Everything else happened fast. Jude took down most of the vampires, while the three men worked on freeing the captives. Unfortunately, like most things go in the hunting world, one of the captives had been forcibly changed and then had been put back into the cage. They slaughtered the rest, leaving no survivors. It was only after the vampires were cleared out that Jude was able to find Desmond among the mess of blood. He had been tucked under a table, but then he began slowly but surely making his way to the door to escape when Jude had rushed into the barn. That’s where Jude found him, making his way toward the door. Jude sheathed her machete, and called his name. “Desmond!”

“Jude?” He sounded confused, yet angry. It was like he was trying to process whether or not she was really there, or if he was making it up.

She dropped to her knees, hands hovering over the blood on his stomach. Jude was panicking, trying to decide whether or not she put pressure on the wound, or if that would get her in deeper shit with her stepfather.

“What are you doing?” His voice was heavy with anger, like she knew it would be. Jude didn’t even flinch when Desmond’s hand snagged her by the collar, jerking her face down to his. The only reason she didn’t collapse on him fully was his strength in holding her up, fist pressed to her throat. “I told you not to leave your post, girl, and what the fuck did you do?” Jude didn’t answer. Desmond shook her, and her hands clasped around his wrist. “Huh? Answer me, dumbass.”

“I left my post.” Desmond threw her back, and she nearly collapsed to her back, but she caught herself on her hands. Jude flinched as she fell, but her face fell into an impassive mask just as quickly. She scraped her palms on the dirty ground, hissing when blood began to pool and leak from the tears in her flesh. “Desmond, you would have died.”

“That’s what hunters do. We die. It would have been fine.” The man, who looked older than he was, pulled himself to his feet. His hair was pulled back into a bun, graying and wiry, and his beard was much the same. He was a harsh looking man, and Jude was almost glad that she didn’t look like him - although, it would have been nice if Jude looked like her mother instead of her ever-absent father. “Get up, girl. Looks like we’ve got company.” Jude stood without a second thought, rubbing her dirty and bloody hands on her jeans. Hopefully those cuts wouldn’t get infected. She flexed her hands, feeling that familiar tug and pull of imaginary blinders over the top of her skull. Something fluttered in her chest, and she shook her head. Desmond was limping away, and Jude was following him.

“It’s the Winchester brothers, and some guy who thinks he’s an angel. Castiel or something.” Jude struggled to catch up with Desmond’s quick, powerful strides as he caught his second wind. He was a good hunter like that, he could bounce back from being half dead on the ground faster than Jude could blink. Desmond was heading straight toward the trio of men who had been watching them, pulling a gun from his breast pocket. “Desmond, they helped me. Come on, lay off.”

“Helped you disobey me, then.” He snapped at her, eyes never leaving the trio of men. He pointed the gun at Castiel, who regarded it coldly, much like one would regard a toy gun instead of a one that could kill him. Sam and Dean, Jude still didn’t know which was which, didn’t even flinch. “Did you run them through the tests, Sunny?”

“Castiel - yes. I didn’t get the - not on Sam and Dean.” Jude fidgeted, wiping more blood off onto her thighs. “Sorta… Didn’t have time.”

She stayed a few feet back from Desmond, watching as Sam and Dean showed off their tattoos. Desmond flashed his own, and then relaxed. He thanked the men for helping. “Hopefully, though, I won’t ever see you again.” His voice was laden with too much honesty for it to be taken as a joke, even though the taller man laughed awkwardly. He looked between his brother and the girl, the look on his face something akin to a teacher who was processing something too big to be truly understood.

Jude set her jaw and nodded at the men as she followed Desmond out of the barn without a second thought. She was like a shadow, or a ghost. Jude realized around the same time that Desmond did - they walked to the barn, opting to leave their shitty, rusty truck at the motel they bunked down in. He sighed, rubbing a hand through his beard before jerking his thumb back toward the barn. He stood over their bags, mentally calculating whether or not everything was there.

“Tell 'em they’re giving us a ride.” Desmond was gruff and aggressive, like he did everything. Jude repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

But, like she always did, Jude followed the instructions but added a little tact to the words she chose. The three men were still inside, and it looked like they were talking amongst themselves. Debriefing, Jude realized. She wished that she and Desmond did that at some point. It would almost certainly help the nightmares she had begun to have after her mother had passed. “Hey,” She called out, doing her best not to startle the men, “Can you guys give us a ride?”

That’s how she found herself crammed in the backseat with the angel, Castiel, and the youngest brother, Sam. She wasn’t uncomfortable, but she liked to be alone after a hunt. it was all part of her routine - finish a hunt, patch whatever wounds were received, take her meds, and avoid Desmond.

Plus, there was only so many questions she was allowed to answer about the old, ripped picture she looked at after she was done killing monsters. Her mother’s eyes, brilliantly bright in the sunshine, smiled up at her from the worn photograph paper. Her left arm was missing, lost to the rip in the photograph, but her other arm was hooked around and old hunting friend: Ellen. They both looked so young, but that wasn’t how Jude remembered her mother or how Ellen looked anymore, but the photo was the only thing Jude had left of her mother. That, and her mother’s journals.

“Hey,” Sam leaned over to point at Ellen, “Is that-?”

“Ellen Harvelle. She was a friend of my Mom’s.” Jude smiled up at Sam, but something about it was reserved. She kept her lips tight, like she was afraid secrets would slip out through her teeth if she smiled any wider. Desmond snorted from the front seat, shifting and groaning with a hand over his middle. Jude apologized to him with careful practice and began to put the photo back in her wallet. She had hit the limit that Desmond was willing to let her look at her photographs.

“Who is that boy?” Castiel, like Sam, had reached over and pointed to the other photograph in Jude’s wallet. She jumped, eyes wide, and slapped her wallet shut. Castiel was squinting - at the wallet, at her… He looked more than confused and Jude’s nerves jumped in her throat.

“It was nobody.” Jude glanced up at Desmond and hoped she had answered right. He would wait, she hoped, to reprimand her. He usually did if there were other hunters about. “It was in the wallet when I stole it.” Sam made a noise in the back of his throat, and Dean met her eyes in the rearview mirror. Neither of them believed her lie, she realized. If they called her on it… Yikes, she’d be in trouble. More trouble than she already was in.

“How old are you anyway, kid?” Jude froze when Desmond shifted to look back at her, his eyes cold and calculating. She didn’t answer. Dean regarded her, again, with his eyebrows at his hairline. She started when they passed under a streetlight - his eyes were so green. It was weird, like she was looking in a mirror.

“She’s twelve.” Desmond answered for her, and his voice held an air of finality that settled over the car - an impressive car. Jude had taken only a few seconds to admire it’s sleek, black exterior before she had gotten in. She wished that Desmond had a car like Dean had - it was certainly more comfortable than the worn out, stained backseat of the truck. Her back ached from the nights that they spent travelling without stopping at a motel or something and it never seemed to go away. Maybe it was also from fighting monsters, but she didn’t like to think about that.

Not until she had to think about it, anyway.

In another world, one without Desmond, she’d like hunting a lot better. Especially with her Mom. Her Mom always made it so fun, turned it into a competition. Who could figure out what the monster was fastest? Who could gather the supplies before the other? Who could kill it first? Jude smiled thinking about her Mom as she sat between Castiel and Sam. God, what she would give to have her Mom back, even for just a day.

They got back to the motel and discovered that the three other hunters were staying just a few rooms down from them. Something rancid began growing in the bottom of Jude’s stomach and she pointedly avoided the gaze of the group of hunters. They were looking at her, really looking at her, and she didn’t know why. She didn’t like it. Jude didn’t really like anything, anymore, except for her brother and her journals. Hell, she barely liked herself.

Desmond laid his large hand down on the scruff of her neck and practically shoved her into their motel room once the Winchester’s door has shut. Jude tripped over the uneven flooring of the motel room and collapsed, flinching when her cut palms scraped against the rough carpet. She tried not to gasp, and shook her head when Desmond collapsed on one of the beds. “Come on, get me a beer and stitch me up.” And, of course, Jude did what she was told. She barely avoided the clap to the side of her face when she went to hand Desmond the beer, her nose stinging where his fingertips had caught it. She bit back the irritated tears, shaking them away.

It was a familiar routine after that: the cold beer, heating the sewing needle to sanitize it, dragging it through the flesh, and then disinfecting everything. She was in the bathroom washing her hands of the blood when Desmond stumbled through the door, his eyes dark. “Desmond, lay back down.” She tried not to order him, but it was hard when she was so tired. “You’ll pull your stitches.” She stared him down, jaw clenched, as she waited. He made an angry noise in the back of his throat and pushed Jude back into the sink. She bit back her groan and his hand closed around her hair, close to the scalp.

Desmond jerked her out of the bathroom and shoved her again, Jude hissing through her teeth as she tumbled to the carpet. Desmond seethed above her. “You continuously disobey me, girl. It’s starting to piss me off.” He landed a solid kick to her stomach and she cried out, gritting her teeth in preparation for more. She gazed forward, on her hands and knees. There was no use fighting against him - she had learned that the hard way. Jude was surprised when he ambled away from her instead of striking her again. “Get out.” He snarled. “You can come back when I’m asleep.”

Jude scrambled to her feet and grabbed her jacket before slamming the motel door shut behind her. She was familiar with the routine - Desmond would probably be asleep before the hour was up but she’d stay out longer just to make sure. Just to be safe. The jacket and her flannel provided her comfort from the wind, but she was hungry and… Well, her wallet was for photographs and not money. It didn’t matter, not really, because Jude had been stealing since she could walk. It helped that she had that sweet look - how could a girl with such wide, innocent green eyes be stealing? All she had to do was purse her lips, tilt her head, and widen her eyes. It worked every single time.

There was a Gas N Sip a few blocks away from the motel and she’d be able to get in and out - hopefully. She arrived at the same time Castiel did and cursed under her breath as she watched the man glide through the automatic doors. If he was an “angel of the Lord” like he said he was, surely he’d stop her if he discovered her stealing. Jude sighed, shaking her head and slipping into the convenience store regardless. She was hoping not to run into Castiel, but when she slipped a frozen meal under her jacket a hand clasped onto her shoulder. She froze, closing her eyes in frustration. Damn it, she just wanted to eat!

“A child should not steal.” His voice was low but held no anger. Jude gritted her teeth together before she turned to Castiel. “What are you doing?” He pulled the frozen meal out of her hand and put it back. He seemed to square his shoulders, looking down on her. She expected him to be casting judgment - isn’t that what angels did? Jude wasn’t a Christian by a long shot so she had no idea how they functioned - but his gaze was blank. It was as if he was actually waiting for an answer, instead of assuming one. Huh, weird.

“I was getting dinner.” She snapped, looking boldly into his eyes. Jude had found that adults got mighty uncomfortable when she did that - looked them right in the eyes while being defiant. She’d never do that to Desmond, though. Castiel’s eyes held no anger, just like they held no judgment. He almost looked… Confused, again. “What?” Jude snapped, stepping backward and away from him, “Is it a crime to eat now?”

“Your father should feed you.” Castiel said it like it was a fact, or like Desmond was Jude’s father. Something like anger, or maybe it was hurt, flared up Jude’s spine like it was her job to feel negative emotions.

Jude made a noise in the back of her throat, finally jerking her shoulder fully from Castiel’s grip. “Desmond is not my father!” Her voice was louder than anticipated, and she began to back away from the man, quickly backpedaling closer to the exit of the isle. “Don’t ever call him that again, Castiel.” On her way out of the door she snatched a few jerky sticks, shoving them up her sleeves and escaping into the night. Jude hoped Castiel would not follow her, so she detoured to a park she had seen when they first arrived in the town. It didn’t have a lot, just a swing set, merry-go-round, and one short, dilapidated slide. Jude took a seat on the merry-go-round, the metal cool under her legs as she sat with her legs crossed in the middle.

She unwrapped the jerky sticks - or would they be called meat sticks? Beef sticks? - and made sure to eat slowly, savoring the taste and feeling of food in her stomach. Her side was still smarting when a vehicle rolled up to the playground, headlights blinding her as she shoved the trash from her small meal into the pocket of her jeans. “Great.” She groaned, “He told on me.” She expected Desmond to come stomping out of the car and grab her up to take her back to the motel. She laid back, eyes cast to the stars, as she waited. It was always easier to take when she didn’t see it coming, and Jude had a hard enough time putting up with it then.

She sighed when the car door shut, and took a moment to just breathe in the cool, night air and the silence that went along with it.


	2. “i’m sorry that i’m getting you down, dude, but i used to not share at all.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood & trauma, mentions of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, allusion to pedophilia but nothing specific or graphically described, parental abandonment**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=MTY3MzNjOTE5MTQ4MGNiMmIzYmZiMmRlOTkzYjcwMWZjMDZlMmYyZCxGWkYxandoVw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189814041145%2Fch2-im-sorry-that-im-getting-you-down-dude&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NTQ2ZGE5ZGVlODE0Y2JiOWFmMDhmOGM0NTQyMWY5ZGQ0ZGY0YjgyNixGWkYxandoVw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189814041145%2Fch2-im-sorry-that-im-getting-you-down-dude&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude didn’t recognize the footsteps as they approached. She would have if they would have been Desmond’s, so she didn’t worry too much. If it was just a civilian, she could handle herself. She had her knife in her pocket and enough hand to hand training to take down a trained law enforcement officer. Whoever it was sat down on the edge of the merry-go-round and jostled it. They sighed, and then spoke. “Rough night?”

Oh, it was Dean.

Jude was more confused, sitting up and moving back until she was barely in the circle in the middle of the merry-go-round. His back was to her, and she wound her arms around her legs. She was trying to protect herself, knowing that the one person she wouldn’t be able to take down would be one of the Winchester brothers. Jude hadn’t heard a lot about them, but she had heard enough. They were like machines. “You could say that.” She finally caved and responded, “Why are you here?” Jude watched more than heard Dean laugh sarcastically, his elbows on his knees, his head dipped to look at the ground. “You here to take me back to the motel?” Jude pretended like she didn’t care.

“Nah.” Dean spared her a glance over his shoulder. It was like he had caught on, but Jude hoped that he hadn’t. Another thing she had heard about the Winchester family: they had an unfortunate moral spine, and that was the last thing she needed needling around in her life. “Not right now. I’m assuming you were told to scram?” Jude didn’t answer. “Castiel is worried about you.”

Jude made an idigant noise in her throat - was she supposed to believe that? “He doesn’t even know me, man.” She shook her head, moving her arm from her legs only long enough to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

“He’s an angel, kid, of course he knows you.” Dean turned, groaning as he repositioned himself and scooted forward and mirrored her body language. “Want to tell me what’s up?” Jude’s face hardened, Dean’s face in shadows because the Impala’s lights were still on. The merry-go-round was spinning, slowly but surely. Eventually it would be her face in shadows, and honestly? She hoped it stopped spinning then. It was easier to hide in the dark, she had figured out. That’s why the monsters she hunted liked it so much - she hated comparing herself to those things that went bump in the night, but it was hard not to.

Jude shrugged at him, doing her best not to show Dean that she was uncomfortable. His gaze was too analytical, too knowing. “It was a hard hunt and I got hungry. Castiel caught me at a bad time. Sorry he fuckin’ narced on me to you, man.”

Dean cocked his head, ignoring her snark. He looked like he had too much practice with angsty teenagers for a man who barely looked older than thirty - if he was even thirty in the first place. Jude thought it was familiar, that weight on his shoulders. Then again, nearly everything about Dean was familiar in the way that things you’ve never seen before could be sometimes. “Why didn’t Desmond send you with money, then?”

“He passed out after I stitched him up.” Jude said like it explained everything. It did, to her at least.

“You stitched him up?”

“Of course I did!” Jude answered. If it was too fast, or too harsh, Dean didn’t say anything. “What? Was I supposed to let him stitch his own stomach up? Jesus. I know I’m a kid, but my stitchin’ is good enough for state work.” She looked away, settling her chin on her bicep as she watched the trees around the park. “Why do you care anyway?” Jude struggled against the instinct to bare her teeth again - she wasn’t some fucking feral child, no matter how much she looked or ate like one.

“I think you and I are a lot alike, kid. And, you know, Cas asked me to come check on you.” She snorted, something like a wry smile growing on her face. It was bitter, and misplaced on a child’s face. There should have been joy there, or at least something that didn’t make her look beyond her years and weathered by life. “How long have you been hunting?” Jude chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering what Desmond would say. Would he answer for her? Would he nod, and tell her that she can answer? Would he give her that Look, that one with hard eyes and a twitch of the lips? Finally, Jude decided, Desmond was not there. There was no way that Desmond would ever find out what she told Dean unless he told her stepfather. Did she dare take that risk?

“I’ve been hunting since I was born. My Mom liked to joke I was lucky number three, that I was sure someth'n’ special.” Dean cocked his head, again, and she continued, looking somewhere over his shoulder. Jude almost felt wistful. “My grandmother started our family huntin’. I don’t know why, I think she just… I think she just knew, you know? That she was meant for something great. She raised my Mom in the life, and my Mom raised me in the life. I guess I’ll eventually raise my kids in the life, too.” She met Dean’s eyes, and saw something… Something there. Something familiar, but far away. It was like a word she couldn’t quite form with her mouth, but had spoken in another life. “When did you start, Dean?”

“I was young, a kid, but not a baby. My Dad started me when I was sixteen. He started Sammy at the same age. We got started ‘cause my Mom kicked it.” He broke the eye contact, glancing down at his boots. “Your Mom dead, too, kid?”

“Yeah.” Jude answered, bluntly. She didn’t really care for the way Dean was prying into her life. “Died two years ago. Though, if you ask Desmond she’s been dead since I was born.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes snapping back to hers. “No offense, man, you’re not exactly the type I’m going to pour my fuckin’ heart out to, especially not in a place with the personality of a damn dishrag.”

Dean, to her surprise, let out a large, loud laugh that seemed to fill the air around them. It made her crack a smile. “Okay, kid. How about this: I buy you dinner, you answer some questions. Sound good?” Dean’s face told her he already knew that she was going to agree. She was starving, the jerky doing nothing to quell the hunger that she had been feeling. She thought about it - really, if something went wrong, couldn’t she call for Castiel? If he was truly an angel, something that she didn’t really believe, he’d come rescue her. Or… She’d be in a diner, doubtful Dean would try anything. If he tried anything before or after, she could always knife him.

Besides, he was offering free food. That meant she could actually get something she liked for once. Jude cocked her head at him, a small smile playing on her lips. If he was offering, she was going to milk him for everything she could. Decadence, she decided, was something she was going to indulge in for a night. “Sure, Dean. You got a deal.” He grinned at her, and it seemed to age him backwards. He almost looked like a kid, and it made a smile grow on Jude’s face, as well. He led her to the warmth of his car, barely blinking when she slipped into the front seat. Desmond always made her sit in the back, and dammit, if she got the chance to sit in a front seat she was going to. Decadence, Jude reminded herself. The small things in life.

Dean turned the radio on and found a nice, modern country station. Jude made a face, shifting her back toward the door, curling her feet underneath her. She didn’t want to press the hunter too much, because people like them were inpatient at best and volatile at worst. “Listen, bud, I respect you as a hunter and all but do you have anything older? Or anything that’s not this?”

Dean spared her a surprised glance, his eyebrows raised. “Older?”

“Something that’s not this. Classic country maybe? Cash? Anything else.” Dean grinned and reached under his seat, popping a tape in the tape player. “Thank God!” By the miracle of a man who spent too much time in his car, he’d found a Johnny Cash tape. He had chosen One Piece At A Time, somehow landing on one of Jude’s favorite tapes.

“You’re not too bad, kid.” She grinned at the praise, but tried not to preen too much. “I don’t know about you, but I saw a diner down the road…” He looked at her, as if he was asking her opinion. With a start, she realized he was. Her eyebrows shot up and she shrugged. Jude wasn’t used to people asking opinions of her. Was she supposed to have those?

“Dude, it’s your wallet. I think you get to choose where you spend your money.” Dean pulled the Impala into the diner parking lot, putting it in park before he turned to Jude, procuring a credit card from the visor. He flashed it at her, cocking one eyebrow and opening the driver side door.

“Actually, it’s Dean Stan’s wallet.” Jude spared Dean a grin and got out of the car, careful not to slam the Impala’s door. She didn’t want to mess up the seal, or the molding, or whatever. The diner was quaint, but comforting. They found a booth, quickly, and Jude tucked her legs under her, again. “I’ll wait until we get our food to start grilling you.” Dean became a new person when the waiter arrived, some bored teen boy who decidedly didn’t want to be there. Dean was polite and reserved but Jude knew it was because he didn’t want to be remembered. It was a good tactic, opposite of the one she usually used when she was out with Desmond. Jude had realized early on that waiters never believed that the cute little girl batting her eyes was an arsonist or a killer. The waiter had left them with menus, which Jude dove into, her eyes scanning over all of the choices. The place was like any other small time diner - too many options all with too much grease. She loved it.

“Yes!” Jude cheered, barely refraining from pumping a fist in the air. “They have curly fries! I’m definitely getting those, and the bacon burger. Do you think they’d caramelize the onions on that for me?” Her eyes followed the text down to the drinks, too focused to realize Dean observing her. She was so hungry, and could really only focus on the fact that she wanted a milkshake. Holy fuck, she wanted a milkshake. “So since you’re paying, I can get the strawberry milkshake, right?” She turned her eyes toward him, hoping he was a sucker for puppy-dog eyes.

Dean snorted, finally looking at his own menu. “Yeah, kid, go crazy.” When he looked down at his menu, it was Jude’s turn to observe him. She had decided on food, so she moved on to thinking thoughts. Usually she wouldn’t do that, because thinking certain thoughts led to certain feelings and those always led to disappointment and that always led to more hurt. Jude, though, entertained her thought for a moment, a mere moment, but then she shook it off. Thinking that way, that he could be - it only served to hurt her. It always had in the past. “Actually, the curly fries and bacon burger sounds awesome. I’m allergic to strawberries, though, so I’m not so sure about the milkshake. What other flavor sounds good?”

“Chocolate.” Jude finally answered. “Vanilla is good, too, but chocolate is better with the curly fries. Vanilla is just not enough to go with the meal.”

Jude hated the way Dean looked like he knew something she didn’t know. It was really grinding her gears, eating at something under her skin. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. Not only was it dangerous to have them as a hunter, but as someone who had to deal with Desmond. She had to stay on her toes. She had to stop thinking thoughts.

Dean bobbed his head, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. He templed his hands, setting his chin on them. He was, again, looking at Jude like he knew a secret she wasn’t aware even existed. “You’re an interesting kid, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” She quipped, her eyes sliding to the waiter as he meandered back to the table. Dean took care of ordering, Jude looking back and forth between the two men with a tight lipped, awkward smile. “So, should I be worried about you as a person, Dean?” She asked after the waiter moved away.

He almost looked surprised, and a little offended. “What?”

“Dude, listen. I’m here because of the free food. I don’t care about what questions you’re going to ask, or what shit you’re going to peddle. I’m not getting back in that car with you. I don’t know what you’re aiming for, what you think is going to happen but this is what is going to happen: I am going to eat, you’re going to ask whatever fucking questions you want to ask, and then I am walking back to the motel and you are going to leave me alone.” Jude said it all with a grin on her face, leaning forward to keep her voice low. Dean seemed more surprised, and then he recoiled in disgust.

“You think - dude, no!”

“You’re buying me food and calling me an interesting kid.” She deadpanned. Something akin to anger flared in the back of Dean’s eyes, and he leaned forward to match her faux jovial facial expression and low voice. Jude had, as she guessed, offended the man.

“Listen, kid, I appreciate that you’re looking out for yourself but I don’t like what you’re insinuating. Motherfuckers like that deserve to die just like the monsters we hunt.” Dean snarled. There was passion burning in his eyes, and genuine hurt there as well. Jude pursed her lips and leaned back. “You remind me too much of me at your age. That’s all, okay? It’s like seeing a mirror freakin’ image.” Dean rubbed a hand over his chin. “Can’t stand it.”

“What?” Jude cocked her head, eyes narrowing. “A wicked good hunter?”

“Cocky!” Dean exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. “I was cocky, too, kid. It’s dangerous. And don’t think we didn’t see your Dad’s little show in that barn.”

“He’s not my Dad.” Jude snarled, feeling deja vu wash over her. Hadn’t she just said the same thing to Castiel? “And I have a name. I’m not just a kid, not anymore. I don’t think I was ever just a kid, Dean.” He smiled, but there was no joy in his grin. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“I know that, more than you think that you know. I also know what you think about yourself.” Dean tilted his head, again, and it was starting to annoy Jude. Didn’t he have anything better to do than mock the way she moved when she spoke? “Listen, I’m not going to tell you outright what I think is happening, because I could be wrong. I know I could.” He leaned back, gesturing smally with his arms. Dean settled an arm over the back of the booth, his other arm moving so he could run a thumb over his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I am.” Jude didn’t speak. “You were stealing food.”

“I was. What about it?” It was Jude’s turn to tilt her head again. “You’ve never had to steal to eat, Dean? I doubt that.”

He shifted, glancing over his shoulder. The waiter was putzing around with another table. “I’m not saying that. I just stated that you were stealing food. Nothing more, nothin’ less.” Something in Jude felt sad, and she tried to push it down. It was never easy to do, but feeling sad - or anything at all - wasn’t effective in her line of work. “You don’t have to be defensive. I know how it is.” They shared a tight lipped smile as the waiter dropped off their food. Dean waited for the man to walk away before he brought the water glass to his mouth, taking a long drink. Jude was tense, watching him. “I think I know more than you’re expecting me to.”

Jude chewed thoughtfully on one of her fries. “I thought you wanted to ask me questions, not make assumptions.” She wanted to scream, she wanted to run away. Her chest felt tight and heavy at the same time, and she wanted to run but he was buying her food and she needed something more than the jerky sticks in her stomach. Jude felt sick. She felt trapped.

“You’re right.” They ate in silence for close to ten minutes before Dean spoke again. “So if Desmond’s not your Dad, what is he?” Jude scowled, her eyes falling to her plate. She followed in his example, chewing slowly on her burger to try and decide what to say. Hadn’t she been clear when she was pointing her shotgun at him and his brother? Or did Dean only listen when he wanted to?

“You could call him a step-father, I guess. He and my Mom only really got married because she had- She, uh. Yeah. I guess I’m not sure why she got married to him.” Jude shifted, “And before you ask about my Dad, I don’t know. She only told me the bare minimum about him, and never gave me a name. I guess he split the day after.” She took another bite, chewing as she watched several emotions, all unidentifiable, flicker across Dean’s face. “Of course, I guess he was a sap. Gave my Mom a necklace, or maybe he just forgot it on the nightstand. She wasn’t really sure, neither am I.”

“Can I ask how she died?”

“How did your Mom die?” Jude shot back, defensive. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.” Her milkshake had melted to a consistency that she was able to drink through a straw. Dean polished off his burger, wiping his hands on the napkin he had in his lap. Jude thought it was strange. Hunters, most of them, had the manners of a sailor. She was no exception, but Dean? Dean had the manners of a civilian. Not only was it weird, but it was out of place.

“Demon.” He finally admitted. “My brother was a ploy in some plot to end the world, and my Mom recognized the demon for what he was. He killed her, and that’s how my Dad got started in the business.” Jude squinted out the window, darkened by night. It had begun to rain, the sound muffled by the tinny music of the diner. “Your turn.” Dean snagged several of her curly fries, and she scowled but didn’t lash out at him. Something feral in her ticked as he did so, but she knew it was the hunger. She didn’t actually care. Jude did everything in her power to try and be as civilized as a hunter could be.

“I can only assume she made a deal with a crossroads demon.” Jude dropped the bomb on Dean, watching as the shock flickered across his face. “I don’t know what the deal was, but it was six months after my tenth birthday when they came for her. She gave me that stupid fucking necklace she never took off, made me promise-” Jude stuttered to a stop, not ready to tell Dean about Lear, “Made me promise something. She told me to try and find my Dad, to leave Desmond behind as soon as I could, and then… Then they came for her. We were camping, looking for a Wendigo somewhere in Denver, I think. I’m pretty sure I’m legally dead.”

Jude watched, amused, as Dean paled. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, the hellhounds tore up the camp pretty good and then the Wendigo came back. We had registered that we were out there, and Desmond came to get me. By the time the Park Rangers came to find us because we hadn’t checked out, we were three states away. I’m sure they didn’t test all the blood and just assumed I died along with my Mom. It wasn’t pretty, dude.” Dean blew a breath out of his mouth, and Jude finished the food on her plate. She pushed it out of the way, wiping her mouth as she chewed.

“And you… Watched all of this happen?” Dean was treading lightly, hedging.

Jude snorted, taking a pull from her milkshake. “No, I sat in my tent with my thumb up my ass, wondering who was screaming. Yes, I watched it happen, dumbass.” Jude rolled her eyes. “I’ve dealt with it, Dean. I’ve paid my dues, I’ve burnt her body, I’ve moved on.”

“Either you’re lying,” Dean pressed, “Or you’re a psychopath.” He laughed, hand over his mouth. “Listen, kid, like I said earlier: it’s like lookin’ in a fuckin’ mirror.” His eyes were hard and Jude shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t care what you think about me, I don’t care what you’re telling yourself… I’m sure I’ve got a clear picture of what’s happening here.” His finger came down hard on the table, the dull thunk shocking Jude. “Here, take this.” He produced something from his sleeve.

Dean slid her a card. It simply had his phone number and his initials on it. She raised her eyebrows. “Why?” Dean leaned back, once more, and Jude mimicked him. “I don’t get it. Why would you offer this? I’m just a kid, and I don’t know you from Adam’s housecat.” Neither of them commented on the fact that Dean had never mentioned what he thought was happening. “What do you get out of it?”

“If I’m right then eventually you’ll get sick of it. Eventually, you’ll want out. I’m assuming you have limited contacts, and when you do want out you’ll need somewhere to go. You have to worry about yourself, kid. You can’t do that with him breathing down your throat.” He knocked a knuckle against the wood of the table. “Now, it’s raining pretty hard outside. Sure you don’t want a ride back to the motel?” Jude finished the rest of her milkshake and nodded, although reluctantly.

“Yeah, sure.” She pocketed the paper with his number on it, and her hand instinctively went to her necklace. She wondered if she’d ever find her Dad, and if he’d be half as understanding as Dean Winchester. “I should get back before he forgets he told me to scram.” She tried to make a joke out of it, but Dean shook his head and laid out cash for their meals. Her laughed died in her throat as he led her back to the Impala. “Dean?” She buckled herself in as Dean fiddled with the radio, settling on an old country tape. She smiled when Tanya Tucker began to croon through the speakers of the car. “What’s it like to be away?” She didn’t say free like she wanted to, but hopefully it was implied. Dean grinned at her as he pulled out of the diner, flipping his brights on.

“You probably already know this, but it’s like I was made to hunt. Dad raised me to do nothing but protect Sammy and kill monsters. It’s what I’m good at.” He kept his eyes on the road, lips pursed. “The first time I realized I was actually free from my Dad was somewhere in Texas. It was Sammy and I, sitting on the hood of the Impala. He was rinsing his mouth with a water bottle after brushing his teeth. I told him he looked like Dad, and he looked at me like I was crazy. He asked me why, and I told him that Dad taught him that. He looked at me with this look on his face, couldn’t tell you what it meant for the life of me. I guess I taught him that. It was like a slap in the face. Something that I thought Dad taught him, I taught him. He laughed at me, and got back into the Impala and told me he’d found a case. Didn’t mention our Dad again for a week. That’s when I knew.” Dean nodded, and swallowed hard. “We’re here. I’m going back out, Sammy asked me to pick up some lettuce or something before I came back. I’m sure Cas will need something, too. Don’t forget to call me if you need anything, kid.”

Dean waited until she was inside the motel room until he pulled off, and she heard the engine disappear into the sounds of the rain. She ran her fingers around the edge of the card with his number scrawled on it, and tucked it behind the photograph of her mother and Ellen. She traced the outline of the boy in the other photograph she kept, and then turned to face the music.

Jude expected a lot of things, but one thing she did not expect was an empty motel room. Her stuff was still neatly packed at the end of her bed, but Desmond - and all of his shit - was gone.


	3. “and i’m so sorry, but not really, tell the boys where to find my body.”

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=YTE2YjQwODgyZDRkMTc3ZTJmZjJmYWQ4OWZlMmMyM2U1NDYxMTQ3YywyVHRRQ1RSUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189942210014%2Fch3-and-im-so-sorry-but-not-really-tell-the&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=Mjg2OTU4MzE1ODhkNTIyM2ZhNjJhMTdkMTUxM2Y4NmU0ZjAwZjgxMiwyVHRRQ1RSUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189942210014%2Fch3-and-im-so-sorry-but-not-really-tell-the&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude debated calling Dean, but realized that her phone was in Desmond’s truck. He always went to the Roadhouse after a hunt, so it’s not like she didn’t know where he was headed, it was just a matter of getting there. Jude couldn’t drive, not legally. She had the ability, and the capability to hotwire but honestly? Was it worth the risk? Just because one had the technology did not mean that they had to use it.

If Jude decided to hitchhike, everything could go tits up. It usually did for Jude, like some fucked up genetic predisposition to danger. She’d end up somewhere that was decidedly not the Roadhouse, or she’d end up putting a bullet in some fucking human that saw a twelve year old girl and thought she was weak. Jude eventually decided to walk. It was not only the safest option, but one that could go the least wrong.

You know, that’s at least what she thought.

She mapped it out, sitting in the diner that Dean had taken her to the night before. It would really only take her three days of constant walking to make it there, but that didn’t count stopping to rest or stopping to pilfer food from somewhere. Eventually Jude had to move on, packing her map in between the worn pages of her grandmother’s journal. She pulled the hoodie, which she had stolen and was just a little too large for her, over her flannel shirt and hoped her layers would keep her warm. She was ready to leave when a waiter, the same one from last night, approached her. Jude did her best to ignore him, instead making haste out the door. Alarms sounded in her head, something she fondly referred to as Kill Bill Sirens. Why would the waiter follow her into the parking lot? That’s not what waiters usually did, nor what they should do.

The waiter grabbed her elbow and spun her around, his face emotionless. “Dude, what the hell?” Jude jerked away from him, her hand sweaty on the knife tucked into her hoodie pocket. It would be faster and more effective than her pistol. “Get the fuck off of me.”

“You didn’t think that I’d notice that Winchester boy leaving you alone?” The waiter snarled, his face twisting. “Bet he’d come running back if he knew I had you.” Jude felt herself pale as the man’s hand secured a grip on her elbow again. She tried to shake it off, but he was impossibly strong. Something in her shifted, but it was like a bus stuck between two brick walls: not moving in the near future. Jude tried to backaway, but the waiter just jerked her closer to him. “He really made a mistake leaving you here, girl.”

“Jesus Christ!” She blasphemed, trying again to jerk away. Jude felt her heart stop when the man’s eyes flashed involuntarily. Her stomach was in her throat, then, and she felt like she was drowning in panic. “Oh, fuck.” The man grinned again and she felt like she was Augustus being sucked down the chocolate pipe. Pressure suffocated her from every side, every angle, and she felt like she had lead in her lungs. When it was all gone she collapsed, falling against a tree. “I don’t know who you think I am to the Winchesters, but I’m nothing.” She gasped, eyes still rolling in her head as the world spun around her. The demon clicked his tongue, and very suddenly several other people appeared in the trees around them. Jude’s head was still spinning.

“I know that Dean Winchester doesn’t just have a soft spot for anyone, girl.” The demon procured a knife from the apron of his diner uniform. “Come on, just tell us where they are.” Jude panicked. She didn’t know, but that wouldn’t stop the demons. They obviously thought that there was some connection there, something tying her to the Winchester family, but she didn’t know why. She had eaten dinner with Dean, and that was it. Jude choked out a laugh, slightly hysterical and slightly terrified - if there was a difference in those two sounds.

“How pathetic are you if you can’t even find two humans?” The first punch was brutal, and left her reeling. The knife had followed the fist, leaving a large throbbing area on her cheek that was sure to bruise, and a deep slice that was sure to scar. The world around her began to spin again, faster and faster, as she collapsed against the tree. Jude didn’t make any noise, too proud to let her attackers know it hurt like a bitch. Damn, she thought, that dick really packed a punch.

“Much like your necklace, they have warding, girl. That stupid feathery fuck keeps them from us. We’re just lucky you can pray all you want to him, but he’ll never be able to track you as long as you have that necklace on.” The Diner Demon snarled ferally, pointing directly to where the pendant of Jude’s necklace was hidden underneath her layers. He was basically shaking with contempt.

Jude pushed off of the tree, her legs shaking as she took in the demons around her. They were all grinning, except one. Before she could speak he pushed the waiter to the side, snarling in the younger man’s face. “You fucking idiot. The girl didn’t even know angels were real, let alone that you can pray to them. Why would you say that?” He spared her a glance, and she recoiled at the hatred that burned on his face. He shoved at the Diner Demon, taking the knife from the younger man. “I have to do everything myself, don’t I? Bullshit.”

The next few minutes were filled with burning pain, though Jude didn’t make a sound. She took the beating with grace, and only flinched when the handcuffs trapped her arms behind her back. She didn’t do much more than flinch, though. Sometimes being proud and being traumatized were the same thing. “I don’t know what you think you’re getting, but I have no fucking connection to them!” A boot connected with her ribs in the same spot Desmond’s had. “Eugh!” That felt like so long ago, and somehow Jude preferred the beating from the demons. At least they had a reason to beat her, unlike Desmond.

“Hey, we got a lead on the Winchesters. They’re at the Roadhouse.”

Jude paled when the demon, the second one who took over the interrogation, grinned at her. She felt the force again, like being sucked up a tube too small for her body, and then she crashed to the ground. She was kneeling behind some trees across the street from the roadhouse, bloody and bound. Jude was tired, but she identified the cars parked at the Roadhouse anyway. There was Desmond’s truck, Dean’s Impala, Ellen’s little VW Bug, and several cars she recognized from her time spent at the bar but could not name the patrons they belonged to. Jude spit out a mouthful of blood, and tried not to look too closely at it. She didn’t want to see if she had lost a tooth, or not.

Her back ached, her head swam and smarted, and she just wished they’d kill her already. The lead demon dismissed the rest of them, and Jude watched with tired as they were there and the next moment they suddenly not there. “I’ll make this easier on you,” The man hissed. He tossed her bag in front of her - luckily they hadn’t thought to go through it, because then surely they’d find her wallet with Dean’s phone number in it - and before it hit the ground it disappeared much like the demons. Jude watched with a tight stomach as it appeared over the bed of Desmond’s truck, shaking the vehicle as it hit the metal of the bed.

Well, that was one less thing to worry about, she supposed. “Do you think if I make you yell enough they’ll come running to rescue their little bastard?” The demon sneered in her face, and Jude recoiled. He smelled like sulfur, and it permeated the air around them. She almost felt like she was choking on the scent.

Jude scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. She had played many parts in her life, and this one was so easy that she didn’t have to think. It came as easy as breathing. “I think they won’t give a fuck about me or how loud you think you can make me holler.”

“Come on, girl.” The demon ran his knife down her cheek to her neck. “You have his eyes, don’t you think I don’t see that? And besides, your souls are very similar. Too similar to be a coincidence!” The demon cackled and cut a thin line around the side of Jude’s neck.

She spared the man a Look. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about. I’m just some fuckin’ kid you picked up and beat the shit out of, man.” Against every instinct she didn’t lean away from the knife as it dug deeply into her shoulder. “Christ, man, you got a thing for knives?”

“Such a mouth on this one!” The demon looked happy, too happy to be standing outside an establishment that was notorious for hunter activity. “I suppose you don’t know. What a shame, what a shame.” Jude wondered, then, if she prayed to Castiel - the supposed angel of the Lord - what would happen. She said his name, tentatively, in her head and nothing happened.

Well, at least she hadn’t gotten her hopes up.

Jude was going to have to rescue herself, she decided. That was made harder by the handcuffs, the lack of weaponry, and the fact that demons didn’t die unless you held them down and exorcised them. Basically, to sum it up: Jude was fucked. She was not going to get out of the cuffs, not while she was kneeling on the hard ground, and she certainly wasn’t going to give up Dean and Sam Winchester. They hadn’t done anything to her.

She would have given up Desmond, though. Too bad that’s not who the demon wanted. “Don’t get your hopes up, man.” She sneered, shaking her hair out of her face. It was thick with blood, and sticking to the wound on her forehead, which had been inflicted with the handle of the demon’s knife. “I’m disposable. Always have been, always will be. I mean nothin’ to nobody.”

There was another sound, softer and like a breath on the back of her neck. Involuntarily, Jude shuddered. The demon cursed and stumbled back, into Jude’s line of sight. She froze, because whatever made a demon look that scared was not good business. A hand fell to her shoulder, heavy and warm.

“I wish you would not speak of yourself like that. You are not disposable. He, however, is very much so.” Castiel, with the strength and grace of a predator, seized the demon and planted a palm over the man’s face. He turned to Jude and almost looked bored - but there was something in his eyes. “You will not want to look, it will burn your eyes from their sockets.” She looked away just as the demon began to scream, and orange light and high pitched buzzing filled the area where they stood. Jude’s heart rushed in her ears, making her lightheaded.

In a second, however, it was over. Castiel rushed to her side, undoing the handcuffs with a flick of his wrist. He pulled Jude to her feet, steadying her when she swayed. She jerked away from him, rubbing at her bloody wrists. “Thank you, Castiel. Didn’t think you’d show - thought that angel business was just a crock of shit.”

“You prayed to me.” He blinked, suddenly looking much less confident. His arms were still extended toward Jude, as if she was going to collapse at any moment, but he looked marginally less like an angel of the Lord as he tried to riddle something out in his head. It almost made him look human. “Of course I came, Jude.”

“Was I not ‘posed to? Pray to you, I mean.” Jude asked, finally pulling her hair from the cut on her forehead. Her jaw felt swollen, making it hard to take. Jude tied her hair back, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath when the motion pulled the stab wound on her shoulder. She was beginning to feel woozy - probably from lack of blood or something. “One of those goons said something about it, figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.” She rocked on her feet, the world suddenly tilting around her. “Damn, I think I’m bleedin’ out.”

“Let’s move inside the Roadhouse. Sam and Dean are in there, with Ellen and Jo.” He moved toward her as she tilted again - or was it the forest floor tilting up to kiss her? Jude wasn’t sure. She grabbed Castiel’s wrist, doing her best not to slur.

“Is Desmond in there?” Castiel looked as if the thought of Desmond had not crossed his mind. Jude wished she could be like that, unaware of the man’s existence past a fleeting thought.

Jude, as much as she hated it, allowed Castiel to hook an arm around her ribs and support some of her weight. Jesus, her body hurt! She’d taken beatings before, but demons didn’t hold back. At least Desmond did, she thought. “He is asleep upstairs. Ellen and Jo are lodging him. We were worried when he did not arrive with you, but he told us not to be. You were with family somewhere else - at least, that is where we thought that you were.”

“Ellen and Jo always lodge us, and Desmond always lies. Nothin’ more known to happen besides death and fuckin’ taxes.” Jude smiled wryly as they crossed the street, dust kicking up when they began the trek over the uneven path of the Roadhouse parking lot. “Sure Desmond’ll be real glad to see me if he gave you some fuckin’ story about where I was at.”

“You use harsh language, Jude. It confuses me. And I would assume so. I am always happy to see those I care about, even if they are hurt. I can heal you before you see him, if you wish.” Castiel paused at the door to lean Jude against the wall, before heaving her through the opening. She was gasping for breath, the walk tiring her more than she cared to admit. Before Jude could tell Castiel no, she didn’t need healing, everything went to hell in a handbasket and the handbasket didn’t even have a handle.

She supposed she looked worse than she felt, because Ellen gasped from where she was behind the bar, talking to Sam and Dean. When Jo caught on and put eyes on Jude, she dropped the glasses she was holding, the mugs shattering at her feet and sending booze in a two foot radius. Sam and Dean jumped to their feet, along with several other patrons who didn’t know her from Adam, but knew of her from either Jo, Ellen, or her mother. “Don’t worry,” Jude smiled, hoping her teeth weren’t still coated in blood, “Castiel got the bad guys, I’m gonna be fine.” With a wave of her hand she dismissed half of the room, and they sat back down to their beers and commiseration.

Ellen took Jude from Castiel - she must have vaulted over the bar or something because she got there fast - and told Jo to fetch Desmond. “What happened, Judie?” She brushed some of Jude’s hair back, and winced when she saw the gash on the young girl’s face. “Who did this?”

Sam and Dean crowded in behind Ellen, and Jo slid a glass of alcohol down the bar for Ellen and a rag before heading upstairs to wake Desmond. “Just some demons, you know. The usual. Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.” Jude hissed when Ellen began to clean her wound. Dean and Sam shared a look, before Sam leaned forward, his eyebrows pulled tight.

“Jude? I thought your name is Sunny.”

“Sam, do you ever stop to think that maybe I lied?” Castiel was there when she jerked away from Ellen’s hands and nearly toppled off the bar stool. Desmond had lumbered down the steps, looking rather drunk. Of course, Ellen was his oldest friend. He wouldn’t brush off Jude when she was around, so he rushed to her side. She tried to ignore the offended look on Sam’s face, like he hadn’t stopped to think that she had lied.

“Jude!” Desmond was a very good actor. “What happened to you?” He cupped her face, and Jude recoiled, hiding it under the guise of having very sensitive bruises and cuts on her cheeks. She hoped it didn’t look like anything more. “You were supposed to be with Tommy.” His eyes flashed and Jude connected the dots to his story, the fake name he used when pretending to be FBI, and what Castiel had said.

“Some demons grabbed me. Dunno what they wanted, though. Beat me up pretty good, too. Nothin’ I can’t handle, Desmond.” She waved him off, and he took a few steps back. Everyone else seemed to have a bubble they felt they couldn’t cross, because they also had taken several steps back. “Castiel said he can heal me, though.” Not only was she pressing her luck, she was pressing Desmond’s patience. Desmond’s jaw jumped as he did his best to remain pleasant, like he’d convinced Ellen and Jo that he was. He nodded once, robotically.

Desmond rifled in his pockets, putting down her pill bottle on the bar. “Sure, have him heal you. Then, get some food and take your meds.” Desmond lumbered away, leaving a sour taste in Jude’s mouth. Her lips twisted, and she let her eyes drift to Dean. Jude was beginning to become very tired of the man looking at her like he knew a secret about her life that she didn’t know, and it was intensified by the demon’s words.

Could she trust a demon, though? She had to admit, they did share shockingly green eyes and freckles dotted over their cheeks. But, still, a lot of people had those things. That was the point of genetics, right? A lot of people shared the same traits, but not the same genes. Her dad could be anyone, really!

Castiel put his hand on her shoulder, again, and she flinched. It was probably dislocated, but nothing she couldn’t handle. “It will be more comfortable for you if you are laying down or sitting while I heal you. Perhaps there is a room that we could use? Then young Jude can rest, eat, and take her medicine. It will also be more private for her.” Jude leaned on the bar, subtly shaking off Castiel’s hand, and grinned at Ellen. It was so easy to pretend through the pain.

“I gotta to admit that your wings sound fantastic right now, El.” Jude punctuated her sentence with a wink and Ellen’s face softened. She sent Jo to the back to begin mixing the batter for the chicken. Castiel and Jude were rushed into the back room where a cot was set up, and she was given a tall glass of ice cold water. Sam and Dean watched her go with a Look they though she didn’t catch. But she did. She caught everyone’s Looks, no matter how long or little she’d known them.

So they had their suspicions, too. Were they the same suspicions? Jude wasn’t sure she wasn’t just projecting - but maybe she was just too used to seeing herself as an individual, as a girl without a father, that she couldn’t see similarities even when they punched her in the mouth. Did they really look that much alike? Castiel watched her as she drank her water, her thoughts fumbling over one another like rocks in a tumbler. None of her thoughts were getting smooth, though, like the rocks would have. They were staying sharp, jagged, and painful.

“You are thinking about what the demon said to you.” Castiel, Jude was beginning to realize, phrased all of his questions as if they were true statements.

She startled, raising her eyebrows. “How did you know?”

Castiel gave her a warm smile, and it stretched across his face like he knew many secrets. As a celestial being, Jude supposed he did know many secrets. “I didn’t. I just assumed. What did he say to you? Pardon me for being so bold, but I am curious. Curiosity is a new urge for me, I must admit.”

“He mentioned my soul. He said that it looked a lot like…” She put the glass on the side table, shaking her head before she finished her sentence. “Come on, how do you heal people? I have a feelin’ Ellen won’t give me those wings 'till I don’t look like I went six rounds with Rocky Balboa. How do I look? Actually,” Jude put one hand up and grinned at the angel, “Don’t answer that.” Castiel seemed accustomed to such distractions, and Jude had to figure out a way to stop the hope from rumbling in her gut. Hope was dangerous, hope was deadly. She couldn’t afford to have hope, not then. Not ever, really. Castiel laid two fingers against her forehead, and the feeling of him healing her was… It was hard to describe.

It was warm, like the best hug she’d ever had. It was as if her mother was there, holding her and signing her favorite lullabies again. It was everything bittersweet about her life, wrapped into two fingers against her forehead. When Castiel pulled his hand back, she felt cold. With a start, she realized that she always felt cold like that. Her aches were gone, and she felt better than she had in years. The healing touch of an angel was almost as dangerous as thinking thoughts that tasted like hope. “Thanks, Castiel.”

“You can call me Cas, if you wish. Dean has informed that it is a nickname, and I have grown fond of it. You could also make up your own, if you wish. I will not stop you from doing that.” Jude laughed, and nodded as she reached for the water again. Castiel took a seat across from her, setting his elbows on his knees and templing his hands. He looked serious. He also sat like Dean and Jude wondered how much time the two spent together. “I will not lie. I, too, see the similarities in your soul and… His.” Jude shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Dean had become the elephant in the room, it seemed. “I thought that the photograph of your mother had a familiar composition to something I had seen before, so I decided to snoop - that is what Sam calls it when Dean or I look in his things without permission - in Dean’s things. I found this.” Castiel fished a photograph out of his trenchcoat and passed it to Jude.

She had only ever seen her half of the photo, and the thought of the other half had not even cross her mind, but it was there. She was holding it. There had always been an arm around her mother, something she had never questioned. But that arm, the one that was over her mother, was attached to Dean Winchester who looked several years younger. Sam was at his side, and behind them was a man she recognized as Ellen’s husband and Jo’s father. They looked happy. Jude fumbled for her picture, sucking in her cheeks at the realization that her wallet, and her bag, was in the back of Desmond’s truck. “That’s Dean, and Sam, with my Mom.” Castiel nodded. “They knew my Mom! Maybe they know who my Dad is!” She didn’t want to have the hope, not yet. She didn’t want to admit that everything had been pointing to Dean being her father.

Castiel sighed, as if he knew what she was doing. He looked at the girl with something akin to pity. “Look at his necklaces, Jude.” So she did. She looked at his necklaces and easily identified the one he was wearing on the outside of his shirt when she met him, but the other made her heart stop. She fished her own necklace out of her shirt, and compared them to each other. Her necklace was a long, silver chain that ended with a pendant. One one side it held a pentacle, black against silver, and on the other was some obscure sigils that she didn’t really understand. The one Dean was wearing in the photograph had the same, strange sigil that hers had, even though his chain was twisted. The necklace wasn’t really long on Dean, but it made sense that it was long on her.

They had to be the same necklace, but she didn’t want the hope. She didn’t need it, in fact she rejected it. “Castiel, I’m sure more than one of these exist somewhere, you know? It’s just a necklace and a photo. Not that I don’t I appreciate your help, 'cause I do, but I don’t think he’s… You know?” She passed the picture back. “Besides, this all hinges on there being something there, you know? Between them?”

Jude thought that Castiel looked sad, if only for a moment, before Jo opened the door bearing wings. She had always been like a distant sister to Jude, all blonde hair and smiles and hugs. “Hey, kiddo, got your food.”

“Thanks, Jo! Are they extra spicy?”

“As spicy as I could make them.” Jo set down the plate and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Mom, but I stole some of her Atomic Sauce.” Jude brightened, barely suppressing the urge to lunge for the wings. Her stomach was rolling with hunger and anticipation. Jo always made the best wings, and the Atomic Sauce was the cherry on top of the pie, so to speak.

“No way!” Jude grinned, “How’d you do that?” Jo shrugged, and then seemed to read the room. Castiel still looked grim, barely hiding his frown. Jude almost felt bad for him - she had given everyone a hard time, but Castiel the most. Before he had healed her - or, she guessed when he showed up after she prayed - she hadn’t really believed he was an angel. Demons were real, sure, but God and angels had never done anything for her. He was just some myth that people made up to make themselves feel like they had a fuckin’ purpose. Jude had believed in the Earth before that, but after the feeling, that feeling of being home, she had to believe in some way. Even if she didn’t worship the guy, she still had to admit he was real.

“Cas hittin’ you with that hard angel therapy, kiddo?”

Jude grinned. “Always, you know. That’s what angels do, isn’t it?” Castiel opened his mouth to object, but Jude’s nose wrinkled with another laugh. Castiel’s face seemed to soften, and Jo glanced over her shoulder out to the bar. She stepped further into the room, lowering her voice as if she was avoiding being overheard.

“Dean’s goin’ a little crazy out there. Sam, too. They seem to be fond of you already; I never pegged them as two to take to kids, but I guess Dean raised Sam, and Sam’s just a big softie.” Jo left Jude with a kiss on the forehead and shut the door behind her as she left. Jude started on the wings, relishing in the tang and spice as it slid down her throat. Usually she would have been uncomfortable with someone watching her eat, but Castiel was not a person that she would consider a threat. He watched as she ate and then, without preamble or explanation, he left her alone. She watched as he stood and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Jude didn’t care. She was going to eat, and then she was going to lay down and take a nap. She stood, used the restroom, and took her medicine before laying down, settling on her side. She was cold, but she was used to cold. She was used to sleeping in her jeans, boots, and flannel and at least she had the hoodie. It was better than nothing.

Jude didn’t get a lot of sleep, though, She drifted for maybe ten to fifteen minutes before Castiel came back into the room, waking her. “Dean would like to talk to you.” His voice was stern.

“Wha’?” She had been nearly fully asleep, and jerking out so suddenly had left her groggy. The world spun for a second as she righted herself, pushing herself to her feet before she truly got her bearings. Castiel steadied her and then looked sternly at her. “Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“I said that Dean would like to speak with you.” Jude followed Castiel out into the main bar of the Roadhouse, and then led her over to a secluded corner. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, still halfway asleep. She woke up more when she saw Dean, picking at his knuckles. Jude focused in on that, mostly because she did that, too. In fact, they did a lot of things similar. She wore stacked, thin, corded bracelets on both wrists, like Dean. She wore silver rings, like Dean. She kept a necklace on at all times, like Dean. How was she so similar to a man she had never met before? Jude took a seat across from him, and his grim face, and Castiel left them alone. He didn’t walk back over to the bar, where Sam was nursing a beer and talking to Jo, he just… Disappeared.

“Two hard talks in two days. I must be special.” Jude tried to rib at him, but it just made the look on Dean’s face grow more somber. “Ouch, okay, tough crowd.” Jude looked away, but then her attention was caught when Dean slid the photograph that Castiel had shown her over the table. She did her best to not look too hopeful, but Jude could feel it curling in her gut. Despite the look on Dean’s face, despite the dark tone Castiel had spoken with, she let herself feel hope. She let herself think thoughts that were dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If Dean was her father, if he really, truly was her father he would be able to take her away from Desmond. It would all be over, and then she could worry about Lear and how to find him. How to keep him safe. (The word ping-ponged and burned in her head like the worst curse on the planet. There was no such thing as safe - not when your family was made up of hunters.)

And hope? It was a nasty thing, infecting those people that it would hurt the most, and she let it fester happily in her lungs. “Yesterday, you told me that you didn’t know who your father was. I want you to tell me about him.”

“What about him?”

“Anything you know.”

Jude shifted, her necklace faux burning where it sat against her chest under her shirt. She knew that it was all in her head. “Okay…” She nodded, rapping her knuckles on the table nervously. She still had that hope, but in the way that hope is tainted with nerves. The way it felt when everything was going the wrong way, like the barrier on the freeway was on the right instead of the left, and headlights were blinding. “Um, my Mom told me he was a hunter, and that they only knew each other for one night.” She made a face, her nose wrinkling. “Which, I guess should bother me but it don’t. It’s not like this business is really meant for partners, or kids, or whatever you wanna call it. My Mom did the best she could, and I’m sure my Dad did - is.” Jude pursed her lips. She was a wrong-way driver doing ninety in a fifty. “She told me he gave her a necklace. Well, she wasn’t sure if he gave it to her or just forgot it in his mad dash to get the fuck out before she woke up, but at any rate it’s mine now. I haven’t taken it off since she died. And she told me that she named me after the only emotion he ever showed her, which is probably why I’m emotionally stunted. It’s probably like genetic, or something like that.” Jude nodded like she was done, but Dean’s eyes were burning into hers, something just under the surface in the way that she had observed too many times to count in the past two days.

“Your name isn’t Sunny.” It wasn’t a question. Jude answered, anyway.

“Nah, but it’s easier to lie about that than to avoid someone who knows my name. It is a nickname, so it wasn’t a total lie. My last name isn’t Smith, either. My father’s name is on my birth certificate, and my Mom just told me it was Smith 'till I was old enough to ask about my old man. But I’m legally dead, and Desmond won’t let me see the damn piece of paper.” Dean leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He hid his emotions on his face well, but Jude could almost make out a hint of… Regret? Sadness? Behind the wall that he put up. She recognized the wall, too, seeing in the mirror one too many mornings.

The hope curdled to something even more dangerous: fear. The car accelerated, two hundred miles an hour careening through honking horns on the freeway. Jude swallowed hard and waited for Dean’s next question.

“What is your name?”

“My Mom named me Jude, after the Beatles song. You know, Hey, Jude? She said my Dad was sure fond of it, but wouldn’t tell me why. It used to be my lullaby when I was still young enough to need one.” Dean looked like she had punched the air out of him, or maybe stabbed him. He paled and jerked away from her, covering his mouth with his hand. “What?” His hand slid up to cover his eyes, hiding most of his expression from Jude. Her throat tightened.

“I didn’t know.” He said. “I didn’t… If I would have…” He moved his hand again, to gaze at Jude. She could only see his eyes, but they looked afraid. He looked like he was about to start crying. “I don’t know what I would have done.” His voice was muffled behind his hand. Jude could feel herself reddening, hope and fear curling together like cats on a cold day. It disgusted her, the way she felt.

“Dean?” Her voice sounded small, and she kicked herself. She couldn’t be weak, not when her Dad was sitting in front of her! Say something! She urged herself. Anything! “Are you… Are you sure?” She set her hands flat on the table and Dean jerked away again, like he was afraid she was going to touch him. Like if she did, it would burn him. He gave her a curt nod and she couldn’t stop the smile that ghosted across her lips. “Then you can - I’ve waited so long, man. And, and! You can… We can - Desmond. Holy shit.” Her sentences were fractured, but the message got across. Dean’s eyes widened and he seemed to backpedal as much as he could physically before he just had to eject himself from the booth.

Jude, as stubborn as her father, followed him through the Roadhouse as he collected Sam and Castiel. He told them they were leaving, and Jude felt her anger rise. She stopped as he strode through the door, Sam on his heels trying to figure out what lit a fire under his ass. Castiel was simply there, giving Jude a sad look, and then he was gone. Jude stared at the door as it slammed shut behind the trio.

After a few seconds of shock, she barrelled out the door, watching in mute horror as Sam and Dean parted to get into the Impala. “So that’s it?” She called, arms flinging out and then slapping against her thighs. Dean hesitated, but then ordered Sam to get into the car. “Really? All of that bullshit last night about understandin’? But you don’t. You don’t understand!” Jude tried not to lose her walnuts, she did, really. But the walnuts were lost the moment Dean ran from the booth.

Two car doors slammed, and she could feel the look on her face growing more desperate. She took several strong steps toward the car, eyes flickering between Sam and Dean. “You’re a coward, just like your Daddy!” She took a pot shot, and the look on Dean’s face told her it worked. “You’re just like him! You’re all the same! You’re all bastards with no spine! Sons of bitches!” Jude bent, picked up a rock, and hurled it at the Impala as it turned and pulled out of the Roadhouse parking lot.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until Ellen came out and guided her upstairs with a gentle hand. She hadn’t cried in so long that it felt foreign, the hot tears rolling down her cheeks, but it also somehow felt right. Dean was her father, and he left her. Just like he left her Mom. Just like her Mom left her. Just like Jude had left Lear.

Except, this time, it was worse.

Because he left her with Desmond, and by the look on Desmond’s face as Ellen left Jude with him, he knew. There was nothing more dangerous than Desmond when he knew something and didn’t like it. Jude cursed Dean, cursed Castiel for telling her anything, but most of all she cursed herself. She cursed herself straight to hell without the privilege of a handbasket.


	4. "i want to die with all my scars."

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Jude didn't think too much on Dean's betrayal. She swallowed it down like her Mom's death, and moved on. Desmond wasn't awful, for the first time, and took her to visit Lear. She was able to give him all of the letters she had written since his fifth birthday, but made him promise to keep them sealed and unread until his sixth, which was a few days from their visit. They parted ways in the parking lot of a Denny's and then Desmond took Lear back to wherever the child was squirrelled away.

After that it was back to business. Desmond and Jude went back to searching for cases, the young girl pushing her father as far away from the front of her mind as she could get. The two took care of another vampire nest, a ghost, and then tracked down another Wendigo. Jude thought those were supposed to be rare, but they hadn't exactly taken care of the Wendigo two years prior, so there was always a chance it was the same one. Desmond let her drive the truck, some, when he was too drunk to even pretend to be sober. She liked that. He passed out in the passenger seat and Just could almost pretend she was free.

Almost.

All in all, her life had settled down as much as it possibly could have. Her thirteenth birthday was approaching, and she knew that her first solo hunt would follow. She wanted something with a challenge, like a werewolf or a shifter, but Desmond would probably assign her something simple like a ghost. Jude didn't think about calling Dean, no, not really.

Not until she was calling his number from her cell phone, shivering in the bed of Desmond's truck after he kicked her out again. She didn't know why she called him, why she fished that card out of her wallet, but she did. Jude began to regret dialing the number before the connection sound even echoed in her ears. The phone rang three times before Dean picked up, his voice gruff. She'd woken him. She couldn't speak, letting the dead air hang heavy as he greeted her, a question mark hanging off of every hello. Jude's lungs felt like they were filled with molten lava, burning through her chest as her mind went blank.

Finally, in a small voice fitting for a twelve year old instead of the worn hunter she knew that she was, she spoke. "Dean?" And then it was her turn to bear the weight of dead air, Dean going quiet. Jude sat in silence for nearly a minute, wondering if the connection had been broken. She willed her voice to be strong when she spoke again. "Dean, are you there?" He coughed on the other side. "Okay, you don't have to talk to me. You don't." Jude rushed her words, trying to get them out before he decided to hang up. "You don't even have to listen, Dean. You can... You can put your phone down and walk away from it just please don't end the call." Jude closed her eyes as the rattling of a cell phone being set down on some sort of table echoed in her ears. "I just don't want to feel alone right now."

There was no response on the other end and, even though Jude was prepared for that, it still hurt her somewhere deep down. "I know I could call Castiel - Cas. I know I could pray to him and he'd take me somewhere that isn't here, or give me someone to talk to. I could even just ask him for Sam's number, or whatever. But I want you to have my phone number, just in case. I'm not sure what I'm hoping will happen, because you've already made everything pretty clear." Jude chuckled darkly, and realized that hot tears had begun to roll over her cheeks. She wiped them away, shaking her head. At least it hadn't made it to her voice yet, and she could pretend it didn't affect her. "Everything is pretty clear to me, nowadays. 'Cept Lear. I don't know what to do about Lear, Dean. I just don't know. He's so little, and fragile, and I promised my Mom-" Jude cringed as her voice broke and she held the phone away from her mouth to heave a silent sob. She pressed her wrist to her mouth, before she spoke again.

"-Whatever, it doesn't matter." Jude collected herself, shaking her head as she brought the phone back to her face. "It doesn't, really. I'm sorry I bothered you, it won't happen again. Um, if you're listenin' will you tell Sam he can call me if he wants? I mean, if that's not too much with you. Or - you know, actually, I'll just leave you guys alone. Uh, if you want your necklace back just tell Ellen, or maybe Jo, and I'll leave it at the Roadhouse for you. I know you didn't mean to leave it on my Mom's nightstand, and you certainly didn't mean for her to pass it on to some dumb fuckin' kid, so... Just let them know and I'll get that back to you. Thanks for... For not hanging up, Dean." She bobbed her head, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what else to say. "Um, yeah. And that's it. I guess... I guess I feel more alone talking to dead air, so you can have your phone back. I kinda wonder how long it'll take you to realize that I hung up, but I guess it doesn't matter. You probably left the room or somethin', and I'm just barkin' up a dead tree. I ain't having nothin' but a hissy fit, anyways, shouldn't make you listen to it."

Jude, upon realizing she had been rambling, hung up and shoved her phone into her hoodie pocket without so much as saying goodbye. There was nothing she could do but curl up tighter into the corner of the cab, pulling the blankets they kept in the backseat closer to her. She was crying, something she hated but needed to do. It was better for Jude to cry in the truck rather than in front of Desmond. She heard the flutter of Castiel's wings before she felt the energy roll over her from his arrival. She didn't bother to look and, well, maybe she should have. It might have been safer - or kept her from overreacting.

"Crying in the bed of a truck doesn't seem to be too therapeutic, Winchester." Jude shot up, tripping over the blankets before settling her shotgun against her shoulder. She trained it on the man, who was standing to the side of the truck, grinning smugly at her with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, a scary gun." When he laughed his dimples deepened. Jude used the hurt she had been feeling and boiled it into anger, letting the rage run through the very marrow of her bones.

"Who are you?" She demanded, doing her damndest to pretend like she hadn't been crying. Her hands shook. "Take your hands out of your pockets." She jerked her gun to emphasize her point, and the man conceded, holding his hands up with that stupid smug smile on his face.

"I'd make you guess my name, but I"m sure you'd get a little trigger-happy if I did that." Her teeth locked together and Jude stepped down from the truck, landing solidly and cleanly without so much as a flinch. "You can call me Gabriel." Jude pressed the barrel of her gun to the center of Gabriel's chest. She could feel something inside of her pressing at those blinders but couldn't put her finger on what it would be. She wished she was as powerful as she used to be, but even in the condition she was Jude was still stronger than most twelve year olds had the right to be.

"You're an angel, so I know this won't kill you. It'll ruin that vessel of yours pretty quickly, though." Jude sneered. "Why are you here?" She pushed it harder into Gabriel's sternum, wondering of the vessel of an angel could bruise. If it could, the man would have a nasty black and blue spot come morning.

Gabriel swatted at the shotgun. He wasn't as tall as Sam or Dean was, but he was still taller than Jude by a marginal amount. Nearly a foot, but not quiet. She still had to look up at him, which didn't work out much for intimidating him, even if she had a gun pressed to his sternum. "I heard your prayer." He said it like she had called to him - which Jude hadn't, mind you.

"I wasn't praying, Feathers. Try another fuckin' lie." She pressed the barrel harder into Gabriel and the duo moved a couple of steps at the force. Jude wished she had found a way to kill angels, but so far all of the lore pointed to them being unkillable. She was a hunter and didn't really like the word unkillable. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Little Brother wasn't lying." Gabriel laughed, "You do have a mouth on you. Who taught you to curse like that, your Pops? Couldn't have been, though, so it must have been your Mom."

"If you truly heard what I said, then you'll know all about that. Won't you, Feathers?" Jude wondered if she had accidentally sent a prayer out, and how Gabriel had picked it up. Hadn't she only mentioned Castiel? "Besides, I wasn't praying to you." Jude didn't like not being in the know and, lately, that's all she seemed to be.

Gabriel's fingers wrapped around the barrel and Jude gave him some leeway, letting Gabriel guide the barrel to the ground. He jerked his head, still with that same dumb smirk on his face, toward the road. Jude watched the police car roll by, glad that Gabriel had lowered her gun to be hidden behind the truck. "Doesn't matter, Weechester. Castiel tossed it up to Angel Radio and I caught it. He trusts me enough, and he couldn't leave the Moose and Co." Jude's head felt like it was spinning. Gabriel talked fast, and Jude had to process it even faster if she wanted to be safe.

"Castiel redirected my prayer like a fuckin' phone tree?" She set the gun in the cab, covering it with the blankets before leaning against the truck. "I can't get anyone to fucking talk to me, can I? Here I thought angels were supposed to be good, but y'all just a bunch of assholes with elevators that don't really make it to the top floor."

Gabriel scoffed, but mimicked her relaxed position against the truck. "What am I? Chopped liver? I'm here to talk to you, with a fully functioning elevator, thank you very much."

"You're some winged dick who happened to catch my sorry ass prayer that Castiel couldn't be bothered to deal with, that's what you are." Jude shifted, feeling more tears burn behind her eyes. "I hate this. I fuckin' hate this!" She spun, her fist colliding with the side of the truck. Pain bolted up her arm, connecting with her spine, but she kept punching. Eventually Gabriel's hand covered Jude's, and he stopped her. She was secretly thankful when he didn't bother to heal her. She wanted the bite of the pain when she flexed her hands and grounded herself in the feeling of blood dripping down her fingers.

"Tell me what activated the Winchester Angst Machine, Jude." Gabriel gently led her to the ground, setting her back against the tire as he sat against the truck. It was cold on the ground, the night seeping up through her thighs and butt to curl around her spine like a vice grip. It mingled with the pain and brought Jude back down to earth. It wasn't the healthiest way to keep her head screwed on straight, but if she didn't she was afraid that sucker would pop off and roll away - she couldn't have that.

"That." Jude finally said. "My last name isn't Winchester. It's Smith. It'll stay Smith. Ever since I found out that Dean is my father, I can't seem to keep a lid on anything. I should be able to. That's what hunting is all about." She flicked some blood off of her fingers and shook her head. "If I can't keep my shit together the creek might as well overflow."

"Ahh." Gabriel nodded. "The perils of being human. I'm glad that I don't have to put up with that. Perhaps it's a little something called disappointment, Jude. If it makes you feel better, Dean-o isn't taking this too hot, either." Jude snorted, rolling her head to look at Gabriel. He grinned at her, and she managed a small laugh paired with a smaller smile. They both seemed tainted, though, and Jude did her best not to think about the fact that she couldn't even fucking laugh.

"Yeah, I think I know that, Gabriel. I said one or two things about huntin' with him and Sam and he took off like I personally made snakes manifest inside his damn car."

"He loves that car."

"I can say with almost one hundred percent accuracy that he loves that car more than he loves his own kid." Gabriel laughed, loudly, and bumped his shoulder against Jude's. She laughed, her nose scrunching. It felt nice to make macabre jokes about the way that her life was going.

"Dark humor! I like it. Your Pops could use a little more of that in his life. I've been inside his head, Jude. It's not you, and I can promise you that." Gabriel was serious, the smile gone from his face. Jude sobered - she had a feeling that Gabriel was not serious very often, even in Heaven. "We, that's us winged dicks in Heaven, don't want you to feel like this is on you." Jude heaved a sigh, and let her head fall against the truck with a hollow thunk.

"Since you're all Doom And Gloom, big mister Serious, I guess I will be too. I feel like Icarus, flyin' too close to the sun and the sea and shit. I fucked up my whole life just by doing somethin' I always wanted to do: finding my Dad. Like, Icarus and his father? They just wanted to get off that stupid fucking island, and all I wanted to do was find the man who abandoned my Mom years ago. And we both fucked up. Icarus, his Dad had to watch him die. And I had to watch my Dad fuck off to God knows where and not give a shit about me." Jude laughed again, but the sound was sour in the cold air. Gabriel heaved a sigh beside her, and she could see him playing with his fingers out of the corner of her eyes. "I reckon he's not too happy with me right now, either, 'cause I called him tonight. Don't know why, but I did."

"I don't know what to tell you, Jude. I don't. Even as an angel, I got nothing. All angels have Daddy Issues, you know. Big Guy Upstairs makes us and then poof!" Gabriel imitated an explosion with his hands, never making eye contact with her. "Let's us out into Heaven, only letting our sibs give us orders. Nothing really from him." They shared a powerful look, and Jude nodded, more of a bobbing motion than anything else.

"Maybe that's why I get along with you guys better than Dean. I thought he knew, you know? He told me he knew, and then he just... Fucks off!" Jude gritted her teeth together, looking away from Gabriel. "Off he fucks! And every time one of you idiots with more than four limbs show up I end up pouring my damn heart out. It's disgustin'." Gabriel laughed, loud and boisterous again and he shook with it.

"You are more creative than Bigchester with your insults. I like it, Weechester. Don't be afraid to call me if you need anything, Squirt. Castiel's availability is a little tight these days, but I got days on days off anymore." Jude nodded and she did her best to note the exact moment Gabriel flew away, but she couldn't. Again, it was like he was there one second and gone the next. She clambored back into the truck, feeling a little put out when her nest of blankets and one shot gun was chilled from the night again. She'd be cold for most of the night, then.

Jude settled in to sleep, hoping that her body heat would leech into the blankets and reflect back to her, but as she did she felt the warmth creeping in from deep in her stomach and permeating her whole body. She wasn't sure if it was Gabriel or Castiel, so she sent out a thanks to both of them and fell into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep. The truck bed was too hard, and the blankets scratched against her skin. Jude dreamed that Dean came to get her, to take her away, only to turn out worse than Desmond. Maybe that was why he took off - maybe he'd be a worse father than Desmond. (But, Jude thought in a bleary moment of consciousness as she rolled over, that would be hard to do.)

Desmond, her stepfather, shook her awake around seven in the morning. The sun was just beginning to rise and a layer of frost had settled over her blankets. Jude stretched and then settled into the backseat and fell back asleep as they headed back to the Roadhouse. The case was only really about two hours from the Roadhouse, so they were pulling into Ellen's parking lot before lunch. Jude stretched when she got out of the truck, her back popping as the joints slide back into the correct alignment after a night of sleeping in the bed of a truck and then a morning of sleeping in the backseat of one. "Go inside and make yourself comfortable. I've got a meetin'."

Desmond grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and leaned down, close to one of her ears. Jude stiffened, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Desmond hadn't hurt her since Dean had lit out of the Roadhouse, and she had become accustomed to it. "Make sure to behave, you hear me?" Jude nodded, or did her best to nod, and Desmond sent her off with a shove before tossing her bag at her. She gasped when it hit her in the chest, knocking the air out of her. Jude watched him turn the truck around and pull out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel as he went.

Jude wondered, as she watched the truck disappear, if there would be a message waiting from Dean, requesting the necklace back. She closed a fist around the pendant, childishly hoping he hadn't. It was the only thing she had left of her mother, and her father, too. It was naive, and she knew that if he asked she'd give it back. Jude would regret that for the rest of her life, too, but it would just be another bullet point on the ever-growing list of things she fucked up.

Besides, she technically had the whole photograph of her mother, Ellen, Ellen's husband, Dean, and Sam. He'd left his half on the table when he left her and she had taped the picture back together. Jude wasn't going to give that up, or let him know that she had it, either.

Blood be damned, it was her picture. She'd fight tooth and nail to keep it, even if it meant going into a fight she knew she would lose.

Jude picked the lock to the Roadhouse, relocking it behind her when she was inside. It was nearing ten thirty in the morning, so Ellen and Jo would still be asleep. Hunters worked hard, but they played hard too and the Roadhouse was a great playground for them. Jude found a booth that was less worn than the others, settling down in it to clean her weapons and listen to her iPod. Ellen and Jo would know it was her just by the methodical way she cleaned her pistol, and the smell of the brand of gun oil she used. Plus, they were used to finding her tucked into nooks and crannies around the place - it would probably be a relief to see her in the open for once.

Jude worked mindlessly throughout the afternoon until Ellen made her way around, preparing the bar to open. Neither spoke to each other, leaving the Roadhouse silent and stagnant. Jude was sure that Ellen just didn't know what to say - Jude hadn't seen the faux mother since Dean had taken off like a bat out of hell. She couldn't blame Ellen, what would she want to hear? She wasn't even sure. And if Ellen said something that set her off, Jude wasn't sure she could stop herself from losing all of her walnuts.

Jude put her gun back in her bag after cleaning it and reassembling it, and by that point a few hunters had trickled in and began to swap stories about their latest hunt. She had joined the small crew of younger hunters - most of them in their early twenties and rather green - in a conversation about the best way to kill a Wendigo.

"I'm partial to a flare gun," One hunter declared, her eyes bright with mirth and the whiskey she was drinking. "Go out with a bang, you know?"

"No, no!" Another hunter argued, her lips turned up into a coy smile. Jude watched as she gazed at the first one with something like adoration in her eyes. "Flare guns are too obvious. I, personally, use hairspray and a lighter. Can't get arrested for Bed Head and a Bic." Jude nodded, agreeing with the latter hunter. Ellen came around the bar to wipe it clean and take Jude's empty plate, and that's when it happened.

Gabriel popped in, Castiel at his elbow, and every hunter in the joint pulled various weapons. The hunters discussing the Wendigo wielded matching knives, several pulled pistols, and a few even had their shotguns aimed at the two angels. Jude's eyes nearly buldged out of her skull as Gabriel raised his hands, the same stupid, cocky look on his face. Castiel seemed nervous, glancing about as if he had not come willingly. Jude shot out of her seat before Gabriel could say something stupid or Castiel could make an observation just a little too blunt for someone in the room.

"Wait!" She held her hands up and put herself between the nearest gun barrel and both of the angels. "Wait, they're with me. They're fine."

"What are they, Jude?" Ellen didn't lower her gun and Jude's head whipped around to face her. "Nothin' can get past the wards I have up here. I made sure of that."

"You must not have warded against angels, then." Jude swallowed hard, her eyes moving between as many people as she could manage. "They're angels, Ellen. That's Cas, you remember him. This is his brother, Gabriel. Shit, they're assholes but they ain't here to kill anyone, I don't reckon."

"Brother," Castiel interrupted, "Is a loose term for angels." He set his large, heavy hand on one of Jude's shoulders. "It is good to see you again, Jude. You are correct, Gabriel and I are not here to kill anyone." She shot him a smile, so large and sweet that most, if not all, of the hunters relaxed. Gabriel seemed impressed, and perhaps a little surprised. "Gabriel and I would only like to talk to young Jude, if that is acceptable."

"Cas, you have to learn how to talk like a functioning human, man." Gabriel seemed exasperated, as if they'd had this conversation before. Ellen eyed them warily, but nodded. "Awesome." Jude prepared for the pressure, the way that everything from everywhere pushed in on her, but Gabriel and Castiel just... Walked her outside. Like normal people.

Ellen, at Jo's request, had installed some benches outside the bar so that when the hunters left for smoke breaks, they wouldn't sit on the ground like complete animals. Plus, it kept them from sitting on other people's cars. That's when Castiel and Gabriel sat Jude down, both looking somber and solemn. Gabriel, of course, less so than his younger brother.

"I will get to the point," Castiel said, nodding at her like he had said something grand and revelational, "Sam and Dean are on their way here as we speak, at the behest of Ellen." Jude tried to cover her shock, but Gabriel registered it, bumping his shoulder against hers. "She has deceived them. She believes she can... Convince Dean to take you in. She thinks that it is the best course of action."

Jude swallowed, averting her eyes to her sneakers. She trailed her toe through the gravel in slow, small figure eights. Jude was beginning to become very tired of whatever was happening in her life where the adults thought that they could just make something happen when the second party obviously didn't want it to happen. Dean didn't consent to having a kid. She was an accident, and she had accepted that years ago. If she were planned, maybe Jude would feel different about the meddling, but she was the opposite of planned. "Right, I mean... He does care about her more, right? He and Jo are pretty close, I'm sure he cares about Ellen's opinion."

Gabriel scoffed. "I'm starting to think the self hatred is a genetic thing, Castiel. The Winchester family has it bad."

"I have seen inside his head, Jude. That is not true." Castiel tried to mimic the way that Gabriel bumped her, but underestimated his strength and sent her crashing into Gabriel. Jude erupted in a laugh, looking at Castiel with wide eyes. He flushed. "I am sorry, I am not good at being naturally human. But Dean has confided in me. It is not that he doesn't care about you. He has been worried about you from the moment he realized what he calls the Look In Your Eyes."

"That look of self hatred and determination to destroy yourself!" Gabriel supplied cheerfully from her other side, "It might be the most interesting thing our Father programmed into you fickle little creatures." He rubbed his knuckles harshly against her scalp, and Jude scowled as she shoved him off and away.

"I'm not fickle! Or little! I'm kick ass!"

Gabriel and Castiel laughed in tandem, both looking like they had never heard a joke so obvious or incredibly hilarious. Jude had to resist the instinct to stamp her foot, knowing that wouldn't help her case. She smiled, looking between the two angels who had seemingly taken her under their wings. (The irony was not lost on her.) "You can keep telling yourself that, Squirt." She didn't protest more, Desmond's truck pulling back into the parking lot. "Oh, it's him." Both angels regarded the truck with distaste and then pressed mirroring kisses to the crowd of Jude's head. They were gone before Desmond was able to process that they were sitting on either side of Jude. It left her head spinning with thoughts and confusion about the turn of events that had begun to take place.

Desmond got out of the truck, heading her way. He regarded Jude curiously. "What are you doing outside?" He asked, brows pulled tight over his hard eyes. "You get in trouble?" He was fiddling with his bag, stopping in front of her. He seemed happier than when he left, but that didn't mean much when it came to her stepfather.

"No, I just wanted some fresh air, sir." Jude watched, wearily, as Desmond nodded. He jerked his head towards the door and Jude followed behind him like a sad, little duckling. She would be the ugliest of ducklings, she was sure, if anyone cared to write her into a book. In fact, Jude was sure that she would be such an ugly duckling that whoever wrote her into a book would surely write her out just to not have to deal with her anymore.

Ellen looked almost relieved to see Desmond, as did many of the hunters. Nobody mentioned the angels, or their sudden disappearance, and for that Jude was thankful. She would have had an incredibly hard time explaining that she had become something of a Pity Case to the men. She didn't even want to explain to herself that Castiel was more focused on Dean, and she was just an extension of the man. She didn't want to explain to herself that Gabriel had only arrived with Castiel at the behest of the latter, and not because he'd wanted to. They'd only met once, anyway, the night prior. Jude tried not to get too attached.

Jude wasn't sure she cared if they pitied her, mostly because they were the only men she had to look up to if she had a hope of becoming a decent person as she aged.

Desmond slid into the table Jude had claimed earlier that morning, setting in to eat his weight in Ellen's famous pancakes and clean his guns. Jude sat dutifully across from him, before she decided to pull out her journal.

Journalling was something of a tradition for her. She had her grandmother's journal, and old leather tome fat with knowledge and loose leaf paper tucked haphazardly between inked pages. Jude also had her mother's journal, a much neater journal but still just as fat with information and stories from hunts. Jude's was beginning to fatten like theirs, but she was only about fifty pages into her own journal. She would have to go through a few of them if she kept hunting for her whole life, but that was just more that she could pass down to her own children. (If she lived to have children, she thought morbidly.)

Time passed slowly as she scratched away a story from their last case; Jude never really looked up as hunters left and arrived from the Roadhouse. Ellen and Jo stopped by to check on her, to deliver a Sprite or water, but for the most part they left her alone. Sometimes she thought they knew about Desmond's rage and heavy hands, but other times Jude thought that the assumed she enjoyed spending time with her stepfather and allowed her to do so uninterrupted. She was, however, violently aware of when Dean and Sam arrived.

Desmond, across from her, shifted and caught her eyes. He looked pissed, something brewing underneath the surface, rank and dangerous. Jude's eyes flickered to Dean and Sam, both leaning against the bar. Neither had noticed her, or Desmond, and for that she was thankful. Jude wondered how long she would be that lucky, and how long her body would smart after Desmond got done with her.

"What are they doing here?" He hissed, leaning in. HIs voice was nearly silent, and dangerous. It reminded Jude of a snake moving through the brush to snatch their prey, and Jude shivered. She was the mouse, too aware and paralyzed with fear.

"I don't know," She whispered back, voice just a silent but not nearly as deadly. "It's not like I invited them here." Desmond cocked an eyebrow, his fist flexing around his fork. Jude worried, briefly, that he was going to snap the stupid fucking thing. Then she'd really be in trouble, wouldn't she? "Desmond, I didn't. Jesus." As much as she tried, she couldn't keep the snark out of her mouth. If she egged him on she could mentally deal with the beatings, right? That's what Jude had convinced herself - and it almost seemed to work.

"Don't think I don't know you tried to leave with him when you found out, Sunny." She flinched at the nickname and the poisonous way it rolled off of Desmond's tongue. "I know you've tried to call him, too. I'm not fuckin' stupid." Jude watched as Sam glanced around the bar, barely missing where she was sitting. Something about the two of them, her father and uncle, being in the bar made her feel bold.

Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, and her throat felt tight. "I'm not so sure about that one, Desmond." As soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake, because the rage in his eyes flamed to the surface for just one moment. For one moment he wasn't whoever he became to hide, but he was his true self. His true, angry self. Jude still felt satisfied, saying something so true to a man who constantly beat her down in a place he couldn't react. She realized with a start, that it was a rush of power she felt.

It was quickly stamped out when she heard Sam call her name from where he was standing.

Sam was smiling, approaching them at a friendly, but rapid pace. Jude smiled at him on instinct, and then her eyes slipped from his face over his shoulder. Dean was staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Had he heard her phone call? Was he on the other end of it? Did he listen to her?

It didn't matter, because Sam was hauling her out of the booth and wrapping her in a tight hug which, impressively, did not hurt. She expected Sam to be much like Castiel - unaware of the strength he possessed. It seemed like Sam was a gentle giant, and very much aware that he towered over the twelve year old girl. "Sam, it's good to see you!" Jude found it easier to not be afraid when she wasn't lying, and she wasn't lying. It was good to see Sam - and Dean. She had built them up to be people who didn't really exist, but there were, in the flesh. Jude tried not to feel the haze of anger rolling off of Desmond behind her, but she was so attuned to the man that it was hard not to know he was pissed off.

"When Dean told me what happened I tried to make him turn around, honest." Jude was standing on the booth, and it made her eye level with Sam. His hands dwarfed her shoulders as he forced her to look into his eyes. "I've been tryin' to knock some sense in him, but maybe this will do it. Ellen's been telling us so much about you, calling us everyday."

"She has, has she?" Jude didn't miss the way Desmond stood, his height not nearly matching Sam's. He'd be taller than Dean, yes, but not Sam. "I'm not sure how I feel about that." Desmond knocked Sam's hands off of her shoulders. "Ellen probably should have asked the Girl's father if that was okay."

Sam responded by smiling a tight, sarcastic smile that made his nose wrinkle. Jude watched him with a start - she was aware that her face was just Dean's, manipulated onto a smaller, more feminine frame. But to see Sam make a face that she'd made so many times? It was unnerving. "Oh, Ellen did. Dean said it was fine, don't worry about it, man." Desmond looked like he'd been punched in the stomach, and Jude soared. It was amazing to see the man knocked down a few pegs. She didn't even focus on what exactly Sam had said. "It's nice. I feel like I know you." He smiled, truly, at Jude. "Which is weird because we've met once. But I've been hearing about you for weeks." Jude could only manage a grin, even when her eyes flickered over Sam's shoulder to Dean and then to Desmond. There were too many things to process, and her head was whirring like a laptop with no fan.

"I wish I could say the same, Sam! But Cas and I have been talking, I suppose I could have asked him about you two." Jude finished talking and immediately wanted to kick herself. It was so easy to be open with Sam when he was looking at her with wide, hazel eyes that showed her just how earnest he was about getting to know here.

"Who's Cas?" Desmond interrupted, physically putting a hand on Sam's chest and pushing him away from Jude. "Get off that chair, Sunny. You're not a fuckin' dog." She stepped down and Desmond put himself between her body and Sam's. She suddenly felt very small - Jude knew she'd eventually make it past five feet tall but Sam was over six foot, and Desmond settled neatly around six foot. She was the smallest in the group, and yet she could see Ellen and Dean hanging anxiously back from the discussion. "I'll ask again, who's Cas?" Jude and Sam shared a look - he wasn't expecting Desmond to not know she was in regular contact with the angel and she wasn't expecting to bring it up around her stepfather.

"He's a friend," Jude finally confessed. "He was there, at the vamp nest, when we met the Winchester's, remember?" Desmond rounded on her, fury burning in his eyes. He put his back to Sam, Dean, and Ellen. Jude knew they couldn't see the way a vein in his neck expanded, or the way he was fighting to keep control. Jude could see it, all though. "I haven't told him anything, honest." She held her hands up, her eyes wide.

He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a dangerous level. "You're gettin' too big for your britches, girly." And then he was the Desmond that Ellen knew again, turning with a fake calm so convincing it almost convinced Jude, herself. She was sure he was smiling and, with everything in her, she prayed to Castiel. She wasn't sure what Desmond was saying - just that Sam wasn't laughing and neither was Dean, but Ellen was - because she clamped her eyes shut and prayed harder than she'd ever thought to pray to God Himself.

Castiel appeared several seconds later in front of Desmond, and unleashed the mightiest, quickest punch she'd ever seen an angel of the Lord land.


	5. "i'm not much for cars, and i'm sick of fate. i'm done with praying."

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, manipulation, parental figure gaslighting, grief & guilt, dissociation**

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Chaos broke the fuck out almost immediately. Desmond fell back into Jude, crushing her against the table as Castiel manhandled him but then Sam was pulling them both away. Jude tried not to show that she was in pain, but it hurt so bad. She was going to have a bruise, later and it would probably cover most of her lower back and maybe even her thighs.

At the same time Ellen beckoned Jo to help her close the bar. Jude was thankful - prying eyes of the hunting community began to shuffle out as Castiel struggled against Sam's strong arms. Jude quickly skirted the edge of the room, settling her back against one of the large pillars holding the roof up. She slid her mask over her face with practiced precision as Castiel hissed in... Well, not in English. It was more harsh, heavier with emotion and raw power. Desmond scoffed in the angel's face.

"Ellen, are you going to stand for this?" He gestured to Sam and Castiel. "He attacked me." Ellen sighed, coming between Desmond and the struggling angel. Fear pounded everything in Jude - she had prayed for Castiel, and he came, but then he went feral. What was wrong? Where did she go wrong? What had Castiel seen in Jude's head when she reached out for him? Most of all, Jude asked herself why she had reached out for him in the first place.

As soon as Ellen broke the eye contact Castiel was holding with Desmond, he seemed to calm. Jude could still see the anger bubbling under the surface, but he wasn't struggling against Sam. "Desmond's right. Cas, you're going to have to go. I can't have angels attacking my customers like rabid dogs."

Jude, surprising herself, took several steps forward. "No!" Her voice broke the tension like a whip and she could tell she sounded desperate. "I asked him to come, I prayed for him." Desmond's eyes narrowed at her, and so did Dean's. She zeroed in on Castiel, as if she had any say in what happened. "Don't leave me here, Cas. Please." The angel nodded curtly.

"What are you talking about, Girl?" Desmond demanded, stalking toward her until nothing but a table separated them. Jude was shaking, staring down Desmond and knowing what would come if she left with him. She had become too bold, made too many mistakes in the few hours since the sun had risen. He was right - she had become too big for her britches. She had sealed her fate. "Answer me." Behind him, Castiel shook Sam off and began to right his trench coat. Ellen was still stationing herself between him and Desmond, but Dean and Jo had moved to flank Sam. All eyes were on Jude and her stepfather as they seemed to enter a final face-off.

"He's an angel, Desmond. I prayed for him to come, and he did. It's more than you've ever done for me." She jerked her chin, something in her eyes shifted. She hoped nobody would recognize it for what it was, and if they did they'd keep their mouths shut. Jude mostly thought this about Dean, because he was the one who had told her he understood those weeks ago. He didn't, she thought, not really. "I asked him to come protect me."

Desmond's neck ticked, and he seemed to roll his jaw forward. "Protect you from what? Ain't nothing here to need protection from." His eyes screamed at her, but Jude was done. She was sick of living the way that she had been living, and she was tired of being disappointed. Desmond was disappointing in every aspect of the word, and Dean had disappointed her in a way she hadn't thought was possible. Jude was simply done, ready to tempt fate in any way that she could possibly do so. So she did.

"From you, Desmond. I asked him to come protect me from you!" Jude confessed, her voice rising in volume. Ellen stepped back as if the girl had slapped her, but Jude wasn't done. "I asked him because after today you're never going to let me hunt on my own. You're never going to let me talk to Cas, or Sam, or anyone ever again. You're going to hit me so hard I won't be able to remember my own name and it's never gonna fuckin' stop. You askin' Ellen to kick Cas out 'cause he hit you is nothin' but the pot callin' the kettle black and you know it!"

"I've never laid a hand on you!" Desmond roared, fist slamming against the table between them. Jude jumped, but stood her ground. "You shouldn't lie, Sunny. It's unbecomin' of a lady."

Jude's voice exploded out of her at a much higher volume than she expected from herself. "You keep Lear from me! You never let me see him. Hell it's his sixth birthday in a few weeks and I reckon you ain't gonna let me see him for it. It's not fair, Desmond, he's your son and I've done more for him than you've ever fuckin' thought about doing!" Jude kicked at a chair, sending it clattering away. "He doesn't even call you Dad, you piece of shit. You abandoned him just because you're too self absorbed to see that you're nothing but a waste of space! He's better off without you and so am I." Her voice broke and it seemed to be too much for Desmond to bear.

It a split second Desmond shoved the table toward her and seized her collar. Jude cried out when the table crashed into her hips, and his nails scratched against her skin. Desmond hauled her over the table and landed a few solid hits to her before they were pulled apart. Jude groaned, grasping onto the person who had pulled her from Desmond's wrath. She could hear him screaming, fighting against multiple people to get to her. Jude tried not to listen to what he was saying, or who was pulling her into the backroom of the Roadhouse.

The smarting of her body did a good job of distracting her. She groaned as the person settled onto the cot she had used the last time she was in there, bending her where the table had hit her. Well, both tables had hit her - she had been shoved back into a table by Desmond, then he had shoved at her. Anyway, they were saying her name, calling her back from the dangerous precipice she was dangling herself over. She began to process the voice and it was Castiel. Jude clung to his arm as she curled sideways in his lap.

Maybe it was instinctual from his vessel, but Castiel began to rock, cooing softly to her as if she was a child. She was a child. Sometimes Jude forgot that. He was talking to her in a soothing voice, low and whispered. "It's okay," He told her, "You're safe. You've prayed to me, and I have come to take you away. Desmond will not touch you again, Jude. No matter the feelings of Sam and Dean, you are coming with me, away from this man." Jude began to cry, then. Castiel floundered for a second and then pulled her closer. "If that is not what you wish, I am sure that Gabriel would be inclined to take you in. You can trust him, as he is my brother like you said."

Jude shook her head, trying to find some semblance of breath. She was sucking in air, as if the room was made of nothing but her panic. Castiel freed one hand to thread it through her hair in a very human way. "I can't, Cas, I can't do that to Dean." Jude wiped at her eyes and began to pull away from where she was digging her nails into Castiel's arm. "He doesn't want me anywhere near his family, so I won't be."

Castiel shifted her off of his lap and into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder. Jude was secretly thankful for that because she was sure she was going to start blooming bruises soon, and she was crying. She didn't want anyone to see her crying. "That is not how he thinks, Jude. Please, find another excuse. Is this because you do not know where Lear is?"

Jude raised her head to talk to Castiel, to ask how he knew that she didn't know where he was, but the door opened. Castiel rose when Dean stuck his head in, not looking at either of them. The man's eyes were trained on the floor like it held the answers to all of her problems. Castiel stood and moved toward Dean, and then he pulled the door open further and slipped outside. Dean stumbled into the room as if he had been shoved. "You don't have to come to comfort me, Dean." Jude deadpanned. "I didn't expect you to." He shifted, and began to wipe at his face. Jude recognized that was what he did just before he wanted to bolt and she was expecting him to do just that. It didn't matter, not really. Her legs began to hurt, and she wondered if the place where the table dragged against the front of her legs would bruise.

Instead of running, Dean just sat down next to her. Jude made sure to not make too much eye contact with him, lest he begin to feel caged in again and run from her a second time. "I know you didn't expect me to." Jude wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands, trying not to cringe when her hands came back smeared red with blood. "That's on me, I guess." Dean, at least, had the decency to flinch when she scoffed. "I don't guess, it is on me, kid."

"It's fine, Dean. Really, I don't give a fuck. I stepped out of line and he tanned my hide like I knew he would." Jude pulled her hair back and moved several feet away from Dean, seizing some bar rag to wipe away the blood from her face. She caught her reflection in the window and internally cringed. The bruises were already beginning, blossoming like a brown and blue sunset over her cheekbone, eye, and jaw. Her lip was split and that's where the majority of the blood was coming from. Jude sure looked a sight, and she wondered what her Mom would think if she were still alive. "He'll get over it."

"Not this time." Dean sounded nervous, finally meeting her eyes. It was strange to see her own eyes reflecting such intense sorrow and guilt back at her, but not from a mirror. "Ellen kicked him out. Said if she ever saw him near you again, she'd get him good." Jude smiled, snorting somewhat sarcastically.

"Yeah, that won't hold. Not when I don't have anywhere to go, Dean. I can't go be with Lear because I'm legally dead. I won't stay here, because I'm not going to stop hunting and Ellen doesn't hunt, not anymore. I'm not going with you and Sam. I'll probably end up with Gabriel." Jude started when Dean stood. He looked intense, but in an unreadable way. Jude wondered if she ever looked like that when she got fired up about something, if she was like her father in that way. Part of her wanted to be like him, and another wished she was nothing like him. The feelings met in the middle like weather fronts, swirling like twisters.

"With that winged dick head?" Dean exclaimed. "No way, no how. He's too..."

"Too what, Dean?" Jude challenged Dean, making sure to take several measured steps back toward the door. She levelled her eyes with his, holding her gaze in hopes of making him uncomfortable. "Too caring? When I called you, he's the one who came to me. He heard my prayer and gave me the comfort that I wanted from you! Gabriel and Cas have been more like my father than you! What don't you get about that?" Dean hardened at the mention of her phone call and paced away from her, to the window. He was fiddling with his lips, another sign that he wanted to bolt. Jude, in her head, dared him to do it. She dared him to leave. Dean turned back to her.

"I deserved that."

"Deserved what? The truth?"

"To be hurt by that, kid. You deserve the truth."

Something inside Jude changed. It felt like her spine snapped in half, like she was broken in two by the realization that yes, she did deserve the truth. In fact, she deserved more than the truth! "Yeah," Jude agreed. "Yeah, I do deserve the truth. You know what else I deserve? I deserve to have a Dad who loves me, I deserve to not be hit by Desmond, I deserve to know where my goddamn brother is and look after him like I promised my Mom!" Jude grabbed a cup off of the nearest table and chucked it at the wall. Dean didn't flinch.

"Is that who Lear is?" Dean asked. He looked curious, but still like he had a mission.

"Is that who Lear is?" Jude mocked. "Yes, that's Lear. Desmond put him with one of his friends when my Mom died, and he doesn't let me see him. I don't care if you don't want me, Dean, but I made a fuckin' promise." She watched as Dean cocked a hip, settling his hand down upon it. He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Jude figured he was already tired of her, and that she would be able to leave sooner rather than later.

"What makes you think that I don't want you, kid?" He growled, "What kind of man you think I am?"

Jude scoffed and felt the strange sensation of an invisible hood being lifted off of her face. It was familiar, the sensation of missing her medicine for too long but that didn't matter. Not when Dean Winchester was cornered in a room about to give her some answers. "I think you're the man who found out that he had a daughter and then bolted when she wanted to come with him! I think you're the man I struggled my whole life to find and then I finally found him. Then he turned out to not want me, and then I was stuck wondering if he just didn't want me, or kids at all. Do you know how fucked up that can make a kid, Dean? You said you understood. You told me you understood." Jude had begun crying again, stomping her foot like a petulant child. She was losing control again and the edges of her chest rippled again. Jude was beginning to get tired of that feeling.

Dean took several large steps, and then scooped her into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder as she cried. Jude gave in, wrapping her arms around his middle, desperate for comfort. Dean pressed his mouth to the top of her head, cooing something desperate and comforting. He smelled like whiskey and gunpowder and oil, but there was an underlying scent of something spicy. "I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure if it was true or not, and then I got spooked. I'll admit it, I never should have left. Not when I thought what I did. You gotta understand, kid, the idea of bein' a dad never settled right with me. I raised Sammy, and did a pretty bang up job about it, but our dad was always there. I never raised Sammy alone, not like how I'd have to raise you."

"But you can't just leave. I need you." Jude's voice lowered to a whisper. She didn't want to admit to anyone that she needed anything, but admitting that she needed Dean to step up? It was mortifying.

"I know, kid." Dean sounded choked up, "I know you do. It doesn't mean much, but I'm here now. You can come with us, and we'll look for Lear. Once you find him you can leave, but we have a bunker, kid, a room with your name on it." Jude stepped back and wiped at her eyes again, looking away from Dean. He kept his hands on her shoulders, like he was anchoring her there. "I want to be better," He confessed, "I want to do better. You gotta give me another chance, kid, I'll make you proud."

"You can try," Jude said. "I'll go back with you and Sam. Does Cas live there?" Dean shook his head, a small, sad smile playing on his face. "That's fine, I guess. It'll be nice to have a home base. Bunker, I guess, 'long as the creek don't rise." She turned and left, not really caring if Dean was following or not. Ellen was waiting with Jo, Sam and Cas across the room. They were all wearing the same melancholic look on their faces. Jude looked toward the table where her things were sat - Desmond's were gone.

She made it to the window in record time for as much as her body hurt, looking out on the parking lot. There were two cars: the Impala and Ellen's bug. Desmond's truck, the truck she had just been sleeping in the night prior, was gone. He had given up, but she wondered what she had bestowed upon Lear by freeing herself from Desmond. Had she doomed him? Had she cursed him to the life she had lived since their mother had died?

Jude barely registered that someone was talking to her, or that Ellen was hugging her. She found herself healed by Castiel, his blue eyes sad and bright as he gazed down at her, and then she was in the back of Dean's car. Her bag was next to her, and she was in the middle, and then she was watching the world through the windshield of the Impala with Dean to the left and Sam to the right. Jude knew that they were talking to her, having a conversation and including her, but she couldn't really make herself care. Sometime on the route, she tilted into an uncomfortable and unfortunate sleep.

Jude, of course, woke when the car stopped. She heard Sam and Dean exit the vehicle, but made no move to get up until the back door opened and someone heaved her bag over their shoulder. Her eyes were open before Sam's hand even landed on her leg to shake her awake. "Hey," He smiled, a dimple forming on one side of his face. "Dean went on ahead to get your room setup. He gave you the room between us. I don't know if that makes you feel safe or trapped, but you just let us know."

Jude groaned as she stretched out on the seat before scooting her way out of the car. "Hopefully the walls are thick," She paused to yawn, following after Sam past a myriad of cars she knew no hunter could legally afford, "Because unless I'm in a car, I need music to sleep and I need it loud." Sam chuckled, opening the thick door to the bunker for her.

"You don't have to worry about that. This place is built like a freakin' tank. I'm pretty sure you could shoot off a gun and neither of us would hear it if your door was shut."

Jude spared Sam a laugh before pulling her hair down. The place where her ponytail had pressed against her skull ached and she scowled as she massaged it with her hand. "I'm beat, dude. What time is it?"

"It's a long drive from the Roadhouse." Sam explained, leading her down a long, sterile hallway. "It's about midnight now. Didn't figure you for an early sleeper, honestly." Sam stopped in front of a door which she assumed was to be hers. "You an early riser, too?"

"Fuck no," Jude breathed, looking up at Sam. Her uncle, she supposed. "Usually it's the opposite, but it's been a day. My Mom always said if you can hoot with the owls, better be ready to soar with the eagles but I think that's a crock of shit, mostly." She watched as he sobered, looking down at the ground and nodding. "Hey, don't look so put out, Sam. Not everybody can notice shit like that before it hits 'em in the face."

"I should have been able to. I've seen it before. You really act so much like Dean." They both looked tired, but smiled at each other nonetheless.

"Hey, can't be the chief cook and bottle washer, Sam." Jude shrugged. "You didn't know, can't blame you for that." She gave him what she hoped was a comforting pat on the shoulder before nodding at the closed door. "Listen, not that I don't think we should talk, 'cause we should, but I'm about to pass out if I don't get to sleep."

"What? Oh! Right, right." Sam opened the door, revealing Dean who was setting up a gun rack on one wall of the room. "Hey, Dean." He waved a hand, catching the attention of Dean who had headphones on.

"Oh, hey!" Dean scrambled to take them off, shoving them haphazardly into his pocket. Jude noted that he'd have to untangle them later with some smug sense of satisfaction. "I don't know how many weapons you have, but I thought it would be nice to have a place to keep them that wasn't a duffle bag." He gestured to the nearly complete rack and then shifted awkwardly. Dean looked nervous, hands sliding into his back pockets, but excited at the same time. "I hope I didn't overstep."

Sam set down her bag and gave her one last smile before he left them alone.

"No, not at all." Jude smiled, moving her bag from the floor to the bed. "Shame you went through all that work, though, I just have a pistol, a sawed off, and a knife. Not much, I know, but it gets me through hunts well enough." She pulled them from the bag and presented them to Dean. "Ain't never used a gun rack before, care to show me how?"

An olive branch, small and barely blooming, but enough for Dean. His face lit up and he took the weapons, hooking them on the industrial looking rack. Jude liked it a lot, and it was even more entertaining to her that Dean was pretending, much like she was, that she didn't know how to use something like a gun rack. He settled them in and then stored her ammo in the small drawer underneath the rack.

But, really, after that he didn't have much to do. Jude sense it, the tension rising and his need to run. She had something like that too, the sense to bolt, but never enough control over her life to do so. "You don't have to stay, Dean. I know we're both tired. Honestly, I'm probably going to plug in my phone and then put on some music before I crash out." Somehow that made Dean look more nervous, if that was possible.

"I got you a phone," He finally blurted, looking away from her. "A week ago. I was going to call you and tell you that I was going to come find you, so I bought you a burner. Figured once you ditched Desmond, he wouldn't be in the business of putting minutes on your account." Oh, Jude hadn't even thought about that. "I still use my old burner like an MP3, though, so I suppose you can too. If you want the new phone, that is."

Jude turned her back to Dean, putting her journals in the bedside table. She hid her smile from Dean, and the traitorous hope that began to burn in her stomach. "Sure, Dean, I'd like that. It would be kind of fucked up not to accept something like that." Dean, surprisingly was holding a new phone out to her when she turned around.

"I wouldn't be offended, if that's what's worrying you. I already programmed it with numbers, too." He shifted again when she took the phone, his hands finding their way into his back pockets again. Dean seemed to have levels of nervousness and unsurity, and this seemed to be a new one that she was witnessing. "Mine, Sam's. I put some of my hunting buddies in, too. Ellen, Jo, Bobby Singer."

Jude opened the contacts and scrolled through. There was a hell of a lot more than what he said, names and numbers of people she had heard of through the Roadhouse grapevine but had never met. "Does Cas have a cell phone?" She tried not to look to hopeful as she gazed at Dean - should she refer to him as her father, as Dad? - and then not too put out when he shook his head.

"It's the one thing I can't convince him he needs. Even Sammy can't get it through his head. I'm sure Jimmy had one, so Cas has to know how to use it on some level, but he won't." Jude didn't ask who Jimmy was, not sure that she wanted to actually know.

"I'm sure I can convince Gabriel to get him one," Jude mused out loud, eager to see how Dean reacted. He barely flinched, to his credit, but she saw the shift in his eyes. "Or maybe I can. It would be nice to not have to pray every single time I wanted to talk to him." Dean hovered awkwardly when Jude sat down on the bed - the bed that was surprisingly comfortable.

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Hm?" Jude cocked her head at him. She wondered if he noticed that he did it, too, and how much she really and truly was like him.

"Pray to Cas." Dean chewed on his lower lip as if it would help him cool down or appear nonchalant. It didn't work.

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't know he could toss them up to Angel Radio - that's what Gabriel called it, don't give me that look! - until last night, though. Who knows who I was really praying to? Certainly not God." Dean cracked a genuine smile, and Jude watched again as the years melted off of him and he looked more like the photo she had.

"Not a big God fan?"

"No." Jude laughed, shaking her head. "Big man in the sky hasn't done too damn much for me, Dean. I've heard the stories, he hasn't done much for any hunter out there." Dean sobered, but then smiled. It was muted, like most of his emotions, behind a wall of sadness. She figured he knew too much about what she was talking about.

"No, kid, I 'spose that's true. I'll leave you to get some sleep. Sammy's room is just to the left, and I'm to the right if you need anything." She didn't reply until his hand was on the doorknob and he was about to disappear behind the wood for the night.

"Thanks, Dean." She called. Jude was almost happy he didn't respond before the door clicked shut. She crossed the room on her toes and pressed her ear to the door, not surprised when she didn't hear anyone on the other side. Jude knew she was safe, that nothing would happen to her, but she flicked the lock anyway, feeling much better when it clicked in the silent room.


	6. “warping through time and space with a smile on my face. loss of thought, pretty please; let me sleep, let me be, dramamine.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, in depth descriptions of guns and knives, psychological manipulation & confusion**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=OTQ3YjU1ZWJlYWFmNmRlMWNkZmRmNzJhMWJiNmY2YjQ2OWYyZmVlMixESlVDYmNraQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190349057265%2Fch6-warping-through-time-and-space-with-a-smile&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=M2NiNDU3MDJlYjE0MDc5YjM0MjY3ZWU0MzU5ZGFhNDhiNmIzZTAxMSxESlVDYmNraQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190349057265%2Fch6-warping-through-time-and-space-with-a-smile&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -  
 ****

Jude slept better than she had at any motel and didn’t even wake when someone dropped in to deliver her clothes. They were stacked neatly on her dresser when she woke sometime in the early morning, and she smiled. It seemed too good to be true, but when Jude pinched herself she felt pain. She rubbed it away and hazarded a smile.

Maybe life really _was_ looking up.

She rolled over to go back to sleep - she was sure it was barely past six in the morning - when her phone buzzed on the nightstand again. It was her old phone, not the new one that was tucked under her pillow, and she sat up so fast she got dizzy. The only people who had that number were Desmond and Dean.

Dean was, assumably, in the room next door with no reason to message her so that left one person. Jude scrambled to seize the phone, terror seeping into her bones. What could he possibly have to say to her after the day previous? She looked at his messages - two of them - and her hands shook as she opened them. Jude’s throat felt dry and her hands were shaking so much she could barely read the damn messages.

_you didn’t have to send your fucking attack angel after me again_

_received: 5:55 AM_

_send someone to get the boy today and you can have him. here’s where he’s at: 404 e st, david city, ne_

_received: 6:00AM_

Jude sucked in a breath as she looked at the message, the address that could only mean one thing: Desmond was sending Lear there. She could get Lear - she could have Lear back! Jude jumped out of bed, barely stopping to throw on a pair of flannel pajama pants from her pile of clothing before she was running out of her room. “Dean!” She called down the hall, slipping to a stop in front of his door. She hammered on it like her life depended on it - or maybe to the rhythm of her heartbeat that was running like a jackrabbit from the devil. “Dean!”

Jude nearly punched Sam in the chest when he opened the door, looking panicked and way too awake for six in the morning. “Jude, what’s wrong?”

She recoiled in surprise and then flushed. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I must have - I think I got the rooms mixed up.” She turned and began the same song and dance on Dean’s door, until Sam joined her and her father opened the door, half asleep but panicked.

“Jude, is everything okay?” Dean looked panicked and she took half a second to realize they were wearing nearly the same outfit: a loose t-shirt and flannel pants. Jude threw a loose punch out and smacked Dean in the pec excitedly, bouncing on her feet. He covered the spot where her fist had connected, looking mildly offended. “Ouch! What the hell, kid?”

“I don’t know, man,” Sam cut Jude off, “She woke me up, too.”

“He’s giving me Lear, Dean.” She shoved her phone at him and he fumbled with it for a second before squinting at the screen. “We have to go get him! If not, he’ll just ship him off to another house. Or he’ll leave him there. Lear can be more nervous than a cat in a room of rockin’ chairs so if he’s there for too long he’ll bolt.”

“Lear?” Sam questioned, looking between his brother and his niece.

“Her younger brother,” Dean mumbled, looking at the phone. “Did Cas go and wail on him again?” Dean looked apprehensive, but nothing could cut through the buzzing in Jude’s body. “You just got here last night, Jude. We don’t even know if he’s tellin’ the truth.”

She looked between Sam and Dean, remembering that Dean had said she could stay until she found Lear and leave if she wanted to, but somewhere in her she didn’t want to leave. “What if I stayed? Lear could come live here, at the bunker.” She watched Sam’s face change, and he looked to Dean. “I know, okay, I _know_ that it seems like a lot of responsibility for you guys, but it’s not. I can look after him just fine! I’ll cook meals for him, and myself, and when we go on hunts he’s real good at staying in the motel rooms and following the rules. Hell, Lear can take apart and put together a Sig faster than even I can and I’m real fast at it!” Jude was aware that she was pleading, but she’d rather die than leave Lear with whoever he was with. She was borderline begging Dean, but it didn’t matter either way. Somehow she’d get to David City, with her father or without him.

Dean and Sam shared another Look, something that told Jude they were thinking more than they were letting on. She looked between them, hope burning hot in her chest. That traitor had let her down before, hurt her in more ways than she could count, but she let it burn anyway. Jude had nothing but hope for Lear. He would be better than she would ever be, and she would make sure of that even if it meant leaving the bunker a mere day after she arrived.

“We’ll go get him,” Den finally conceded, looking at Jude through his lashes. “We’ll bring him back to the bunker, and then we’ll go from there.” Sam sighed behind her, but Jude didn’t take note of it. She launched herself at Dean, a grin splitting her face as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Thank you, Dean!” He wrapped his arms around her with stilted movements, but relaxed into her hold. “That’s like, three hours away. We should leave now so that we can be there when he drops Lear off.” Dean and Sam shared another look, a Look if you will, and then eventually they both nodded. “Holy shit, okay, holy _shit!_ I’ll go get ready.”

Jude dashed back to her room and dove for her clothing, tearing the piles apart until she found an outfit that was suitable for the reunion. She settled on something comfortable, familiar to Lear. Her hunting boots - an old pair of stylish Docs that she lifted when she was around ten, just before their mother died - and a loose but stylishly tight pair of ripped jeans. She then decided on a Johnny Cash shirt, the one she was wearing when she had visited him last, and an old flannel. Lear had given her a lot of bracelets for her last birthday, ones that he had woven himself from colorful strands of embroidery thread, so she put those on, too. Jude put on her rings, silver and gold, before pulling her necklace from where it was tucked in her shirt. She liked the way it looked, hanging low and long on her but she knew that it made Lear nervous. She looped it three times around her neck until it hung just below her collar bone and formed a faux choker.

She brushed through her hair with her fingers, and then gave up. She tied it up, out of her face, and grinned at herself in the mirror. Jude didn’t bother to grab the journals, just several letters she had written since she’d seen Lear last, and then moved to the gun rack. She removed her gun first, one that used to belong to her Grandmother.

It had skipped her mother when Nana died, and Jude was thankful for that. Desmond had always wanted the S&W 645, but that was mostly because it was the Miami Vice gun. Jude liked it because it was her grandmother’s gun and she preferred to use .45’s. She liked to make the salt rounds for them, too, and wondered as she loaded the gun - eight in the magazine and one in the chamber - if the bunker had a place to make her own bullets. The gun was enough for her grandmother and enough for her, if it didn’t. She could deal with using regular ammo.

She holstered it on her lower back and adjusted the holster itself. She liked that it was almost noticeable under her shirt, the idea that people would look at her and wonder, but then decide that no, a twelve year old was no threat. Little did they know…

Jude pulled the knife off the rack. It was her knife, new and bought when her mother died. Well, it was less of a knife and more of a damascus. Jude paused, adjusting the thigh holster she kept the knife in, to observe her damascus. She knew a lot about it, just because she had poured over knives for hours when Desmond said he was going to purchase it for her.

It was a needle point blade with stacked leather and black micarta handles. She liked the white micarta liners, and the bolster, made out of black walnut, matched very well in her opinion. The holster, the one she was slipping the knife into, had come with it. It was made out of buffalo leather, and it matched the knife as well. Jude left the sawed off and threw another box of ammo into her bag, along with a change of clothing. She wasn’t sure how long they’d be gone, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Jude dashed out of her room at the same time Dean left his room, adjusting bracelets of his own. They were dressed very similarly, except Dean was wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt, and not a Johnny Cash shirt. “Hey, kid, are you ready to go?”

Jude nodded, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “I’m just excited to see Lear.” They began to walk through the bunker, and Jude saw a massive library before Dean broke the awkward silence.

“Your Mom sure liked the Beatles, huh, kid?” Jude grinned up at Dean, and he mimicked her.

“Yeah, she did.” Jude bobbed her head as they entered the garage. “She never explained why she chose Lear for him, but it seemed to fit the theme of her kids, right? She named me after you - or, at least, a story about you.” Dean smoothed a hand over her shoulder, pulling her to a stop. He smiled down at her, sadly, and the sides of his eyes crinkled. “What?”

“I’m glad you came back to the bunker, Jude.” The use of her name startled her. She had kind of gotten used to Dean calling her Kid. “I know it’ll take some convincing’ for Sammy, but I think you and Lear would fit in just fine here.” Jude grinned again, hope and contentment rising in her chest. Sam joined them, looking slightly uncomfortable but supportive nonetheless.

Dean led them to the Impala, and Jude immediately spread out across the backseat. She had her eyes glued to her phone, switching between the messages Desmond had sent and the photos she had from her last visit with Lear. She was going to get him back! Her mind began to wander as she switched from a photograph of Lear she took at the park to a photo of her grinning with a very confused Castiel in the background, if he was the one who had convinced Desmond to tell her where Lear was, or if it was Gabriel.

The lines between prayer and thought must have been very thin, because Jude had the thought and then felt the shift in the air that signalled an angel coming. She didn’t know how - oh, when was the last time she took her meds? - but she jerked her legs out of the way just as Castiel appeared in the backseat with her. “Hello, Jude.”

“Cas!” She cried at the same time Dean jerked the wheel, cursing under his breath.

“Dude, a little warning!”

“I apologize,” Castiel said, nodding toward Dean. “I came bearing answers to your questions. Yes, I did visit Desmond, but so did Gabriel. I am unaware which one of us prompted him to make his decision.” Jude grinned at Castiel, thanking him silently. He nodded, giving her a small, yet sincere smile, and then he was gone.

“Does he do that a lot?” Jude finally questioned her father and uncle. “Just show up and dip out?”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, he does.” Jude laughed, and then spied and old milk crate filled with cassettes. She began to dig through it, stopping only when she put her hands on a cassette she had never seen before. “What are you doing back there?” Sam questioned.

“Holy fuck!” Jude leapt up to lean against the front seat. “You have a copy of _Move It On Over_? No way, this is like, my favorite George Thorogood record. We have to listen to it, it’s got _Cocaine Blues_ on it.” She waggled it in Dean’s face until he took it and slid it into the slot. “Fuck yeah!”

Sam chastised her weakly for her language, but then Dean cut in, a hand held out toward his brother. “Hey, Sammy, she’s blood. You think she’s not gonna cuss like a sailor?”

“Damn straight!” Jude added, throwing herself back into the seat. She was excited, too excited to sleep her way through the hours of travel, so she settled in to listen to the tape Dean had put in for her and try to ignore the fear in her stomach. By the time the tape was over Jude was beginning to feel uncomfortable sprawled across the bench seat. She could feel her gun jutting uncomfortably into her back, so she sat up.

“Got any requests?” Dean asked, sparing a glance over his shoulder at her. “We’re about two hours out, hour and a half if Sammy stays asleep and doesn’t make us stop.” Sam was asleep, something Jude hadn’t noticed until Dean pointed it out.

“I’m good with whatever you choose as long as it’s not country.” Dean made a noise of protest in the back of his throat, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. Jude held up a hand and amended her statement. “Okay, how about no country after two thousand and two?” Dean nodded and switched out the tape. Jude watched as he navigated his car with the same knowledge as the first time she was in the Impala. He slipped in _Always on My Mind_ by Willie Nelson, and Jude grinned. “My Mom loved this album, too.” She said, her voice soft. “Her favorite song was _Bridge Over Troubled Water_. Told me all the time Lear and I were her bridge.” Her eyes began to mist - Jude hadn’t given herself time to grieve her mother, especially not since Desmond threw himself head first into hunting and took her with him. She just put her head down and moved on much like she had done when Dean had run out on her.

“That’s nice.” Dean hummed. He had that sad look on his face again, the one that made him look like he wanted to bolt. “Did she sing them to you?” Jude smiled wider, nodding.

“She did! She told me that her Mom never sang to her and she always wanted it. She wanted that for me, I guess.” Jude settled back into her seat and pointedly looked away from the rearview mirror. Dean would glance up at her every few seconds, still driving safely but keeping an eye on her as she began to remember. “I would sing _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ when I was laying Lear down. I don’t know why I changed it, but _Hey, Jude_ seems like my song with her, you know?”

Dean hummed as the song changed, his voice blending into Willie Nelson’s. “Yeah, I understand. Did you do that a lot? Watch Lear, I mean?”

“Not after Mom died, but before? Yeah. Especially when he was a newborn. My Mom couldn’t stop hunting, she didn’t want to. Desmond didn’t take care of him at all, but then I got older and so did Lear. He would sleep through the night and I started going on hunts with my Mom and Desmond. I guess, well, saying that out loud… I used to take care of him the most, until Desmond sent him away.” Jude shrugged. “It sucks, yeah, but I get to go out on more hunts. I’m good at two things-”

“-Taking care of your brother and huntin’?” Dean filled in for her. “Yeah, I know the feelin’, kid.” She smiled at him, laughing. Eventually Dean’s chortles joined hers until they tapered off into a nice, comfortable silence. Jude’s mind began to wander and she felt much more open than usual. It was hard to explain, but usually she felt like she was wearing blinders - those things they put on racing horses. That was her normal, that there were blinders on and everything was a little suppressed.

But, sitting in the back of the Impala as she listened to Willie Nelson on her way to see her brother again, she felt like the blinders had fallen off. Jude only felt like that if she forgot her medicine. She scrambled up, bending over to snag her bag from the ground. She hadn’t unpacked her medicine the night before, so it would be in there. “What’re you doin’, kid?”

“Nothin’, looking for my medicine.” She swept the bottom of the bag, and then began to shake out her clothing looking for the bottle. “I can’t find it.” Jude made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat when searching her bag came up empty.

“Medicine?” Dean asked, turning to look at her as he rolled to a stop at a light. “What medicine do you take?”

“I have a mood disorder, I guess. I don’t know, my Mom has been giving me this medicine since I was a kid and I’ve been taking it since then. Desmond gets it for me.” She searched the bench seat, and then the floor. “ _Fuck_ , I don’t know the name of it, either. Did you catch the name of it when Desmond mentioned it that one time in the Roadhouse?” Jude leaned forward and leaned against the seat again, and Dean looked more confused, if that were possible.

“When?”

“When I was on the hook with those demons and Cas saved me.”

Their confusion mirrored each other, looking similar in the way that a father and daughter would. “Yeah, Desmond didn’t mention any medicine that day, kid. You feelin’ okay?” Jude shook her head, confused, as she leaned back in her seat. Dean had said that… And she didn’t really remember Desmond telling her to take her medicine that day. She didn’t remember taking her medicine that day - why would she take medicine?

“Yeah, no, yeah… I’m fine, Dean. I don’t know why I thought I took something. I’m probably just too excited to see Lear again.” Jude spent the rest of the ride in confused silence, but eventually the Impala roared into David City, Nebraska. Dean had woken Sam up, and the three of them began to squint out the windows to search for 404 E Street. David City wasn’t that big, and Jude didn’t expect to see a homeless man standing on the street corner.

He was ragged, and looked like he was covered in blood. He pointed at her as they rolled by and Jude flinched. “What the hell?” Dean interrupted her, and she whipped around as he pulled into a parking lot. “A _Subway_?” Sure enough, the address that Desmond had given her was a Subway on a street corner. “At least it’s not a warehouse, or anything. It’s someplace normal, for once. We don’t get a lot of normal.”

Sam looked back at Jude, who was nearly bouncing in her seat. “Maybe you should stay in the car while Dean and I go inside.” She made an unidentifiable noise in the back of her throat and shook her head. “Listen, if this is just a ploy to get you back, I’d rather have you safe in the car than inside.”

“I agree with Sammy,” Dean said. His eyes were soft, but guarded, as he looked back at her. “We don’t know what Cas did, or why Desmond is dropping Lear off to you. It’s safer if you stay in the car.”

Jude panicked, sliding her hands over the leather of the front seat, settling her chin on it. “But Lear won’t go with you two!” She argued, “I taught him better than that. Plus he’s tougher than a two dollar steak. Kid could take both of you down without even tryin’.” She looked between Dean and Sam, pleading in every cell of her being. “I haven’t seen him in weeks, you have to let me go in there, even if one of you goes with me.” Sam and Dean had a habit and a knack for speaking through Looks.

“I’ll go in.” Dean finally decided. “It’s only right that I go, isn’t it?” Jude pushed the car door open, jumping out and then pulling Dean’s door open for him. “Whoa, kid. It doesn’t look like anyone is even in there yet.” Jude grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him toward Subway. She felt like a young kid again - she was still a young kid, but never felt like one - with the way excitement was bubbling inside of her.

“Lear is nearly six,” Jude insisted, “If he’s in there, then he’ll probably be sitting and we won’t be able to see him through the windows.” Dean finally gave in, smiling as he allowed Jude to tug him along. Her heart was hammering in her chest, anticipation filling her to the brim and bubbling over like a glass full of bees. The bell above the door sounded as they entered, and immediately Jude was scanning the restaurant. There was a teen behind the counter, dead-eyed and bored, and there he was.

Lear was settled into a booth in the back, bags filling the seat across from him. He was drinking a too large drink for his hands and flipping through a chapter book. The sight of her brother took Jude’s breath away. Even in the few weeks that she hadn’t seen him, he’d changed. He’d grown a little bit, and she could see his red-brown hair had grown down and began to curl around his ears. She watched, a grin spreading across her face, when he set his drink down to push his hair out of his eyes like he’d done since he was a toddler. Lear looked so much like their mother - he had her bright hazel eyes and her hair color. Jude was glad that he didn’t look like Desmond.

Finally Dean gave her a small shove toward the boy. She glanced up at him and he smiled at her, large and bright, before nodding toward Lear. Jude took several timid steps forward until Lear looked up and they locked eyes. “ _Sunny!_ ”

The boy scrambled down and the children swept each other into a hug halfway between Dean and Lear’s seat. Jude fell to her knees, embracing Lear so tightly she was sure it would hurt. Lear clung to her like she was the life force keeping him alive, and Jude did much the same. “It’s so good to see you, Learie.” Jude mumbled into his shoulder. “Who dropped you off?”

“Dad did. Said I was going to live with you instead of his friend.”

Jude pulled back and realized with a start, that they were both crying. She wiped away Lear’s tears because even though she knew it was because he was overwhelmed with happiness, she hated to see her brother cry. “You are,” She nodded, pausing only to wipe away her tears on her sleeve. “You are.”

Lear’s eyes flickered away from hers, over her shoulder. “Is that him?” He asked, pointing a thin finger over her shoulder. “Is that your Dad?” Jude followed his finger and saw Dean standing, a nostalgic look on his face. When the children turned to face him, he smiled like he was let in on a secret they’d continue to keep between them.

“Yeah, Learie, that’s my Dad. I call him Dean, though.” Jude stood and her brother’s eyes followed her movement. She ruffled his hair and Lear caught her wrist, hanging on her arm. He tried to be inconspicuous but as a six year old, he wasn’t very good at it.

“Is he really a superhero like you wrote?” Lear’s eyes were wide as he gazed up at her, and Jude smiled softly.

“Yeah, he is.” Jude whispered. “Just don’t tell him I said that, otherwise he’d get too big for his britches.” Jude led Lear toward Dean as she pretended to believe that Dean hadn’t heard what her brother said. “Dean, this is my little brother.”

“I’m Lear!” He jerked his small hand out for Dean to shake, and with raised eyebrows Dean did. Lear held himself like a little adult, which was very different than how he behaved with his sister. “And you’re Dean Winchester.”

“That I am, kiddo. Why don’t you two go wait in the car? I’ll get Lear’s stuff, and he can meet Sammy.” He moved to get the bags, and with one look Lear had convinced Jude to heft him onto her back. She carried him out of the Subway and Sam met them by the door.

“Lear, this is Sam. He’s Dean’s brother.” Lear extended his hand out as well as he could from his place on Jude’s back. She grinned up at Sam, and he blinked in surprise as his hand swallowed Lear’s easily. He dropped it after three solid shakes.

“Hello, how are you Lear?” Sam said politely.

“I’m good!” Lear chirped back, Jude not even flinching when her ears protested the loudness of the child. “You’re _really_ tall.”

Sam laughed, his eyes flickering up to the Subway and then back to the children. “I am tall. You’re pretty tall up there, aren’t you? You’re not worried about her back or her dropping you?” Jude jumped, settling Lear higher up on her back.

“Nope!” Her brother answered, “I know Jude wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” He wiggled down from her back and the trio turned back to the restaurant as Dean slid out the door. He circled the Impala and loaded Lear’s things into the trunk before clapping his hands in front of him, opening his mouth to address them. “Are we going now?” Lear cut him off, fearless even at age six. Jude felt pride surge through her system. She was the reason he wasn’t afraid, she was the reason that he could look at men who could easily hurt him and not be afraid of that happening. The smile hurt her face as she grinned, looking back and forth between her brother and her father.

“Yeah, Lear,” Dean laughed, “We’re going to go back to the bunker and get you settled in.” Sam clapped Jude on the back as she helped Jude into the backseat, buckling him in as he squirmed away from her.

“How come you don’t have to wear the s'belt?” He complained to her as Dean and Sam settled in. “It’s not fair.”

“I can’t believe you’re already arguing with me, Learie. I don’t have to wear it because I’m older than you and bigger.” She clicked her tongue at her brother, who just sighed and rolled his eyes. She passed him his book and he settled into the Impala’s seat to read. Jude was watching her brother with a smile on her face, and Dean had to arc his arm back to snap in front of her face before she snapped back into reality.

“Hey, kid. Lear has a point, buckle up.” She groaned dramatically, but didn’t protest more than that. She buckled into the middle, her side pressed up against her brother’s. Jude was content to just exist in the same car as her brother, and the knowledge that she was once again in charge of him gave her something to look forward to - especially if Sam and Dean allowed them to stay in the bunker. “I know, I know, we drove all the way here and I didn’t say anything. We can’t afford to get pulled over, though. I’m legally dead in three different states.”

“And we’re technically fugitives,” Sam added with a laugh. “Besides, we don’t have any proof that we have custody of you two, which we don’t, so it would just all around be bad.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Sam,” Jude ducked under the torso strap of the seat belt to lean forward. “Technically I died in a forest a few years ago.” She laughed when Sam whipped around to look at her, his hazel eyes wide. “What? Don’t all hunters legally die every once and awhile?”

“Not when they’re twelve!”

“I was ten, actually.” Jude seemed proud of that fact, even though the situation that surrounded that event was more traumatic than anything else. “Just like everything else, I’m an overachiever.” She tried to mimic Dean’s smirk, the one he’d seen him give Sam on a few occasions. Her uncle blanched at her before he settled back into his seat, turning to his brother.

“Dude, yeah, she’s sure your kid alright.” Dean was going to reply, probably with some smartass remark, but his phone began ringing in his pocket. Jude watched as he fought to get it out of the leather jacket he was always wearing, and then a man on the side of the road caught her eye. It was the same man from before, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Jude spun toward the back window, watching as he disappeared as the Impala continued on. Dean was speaking incoherently on the phone, something about a hunt. Jude paused, wondering if she could call upon Castiel or Gabriel to figure out why she had seen the man twice with no preamble. He was there, and then he was gone. “We have a hunt.” Dean said, “We’ll drive back to the bunker, and then head out. It’s in California.”

“That’s really far away.”

“There’s two drivers in this car, Sammy, we can make it.”

Jude slowly turned back to Dean, wondering why she felt so odd. “You have three. I could drive.” Jude tried to sound normal, but she felt like her voice was coming out odd. She shook the thought away - she’d love to drive the Impala. Dean levelled her with a stern, but not genuinely angry look, in the rear view mirror. “I mean, or not. But I totally can drive. I’m really good at it.”

“She is,” Lear spoke up, “She used to have a fake license that said she was sixteen so that she could drive me places without worry.” He smiled over his book and kicked his feet out. He was so short that he didn’t even scrape the back of the front seat.

“Fake license or not,” Dean said, “You’re not driving Baby, kid. She takes a fine hand.” Sam and Jude made matching noises of distaste, and Dean laughed loudly. Something flickered in the back of Jude’s mind, something like a quick flash of sleepiness, and then it was gone. She felt like she was being turned against her will when Dean stopped at a red light, until she was looking out her window. Gabriel stood there, a confused look on his face. He cocked his head and suddenly Jude knew something was very, very wrong.

She tried to think back to the few days before that moment, but nothing seemed to stand out. Jude couldn’t think of one thing that would make Gabriel make that face at her - not even Lear sitting next to her in the seat. Something crossed over Gabriel’s face - fear? - and then he was gone.

Jude straightened her back against the seat of the Impala, her heart hammering in her chest. She turned to look at Lear, slowly, and wondered what could possibly be wrong when her life seemed to take a u-turn overnight. No, she finally decided, nothing was wrong. She happened to see the same homeless man twice in David City, and then Gabriel. He was weird by his own right, so that didn’t mean anything. Jude smiled, and shook the feeling off.

It didn’t matter, not really. Her life was going to turn around, it was going to get better, and she was going to get better. She deserved that much. Jude sighed and leaned her cheek against the top of Lear’s head. She fell asleep there, leaning against the warmth of her brother and listening to Dean sing under his breath.

Jude woke up what felt like hours later covered in a thin layer of sweat. She had a nightmare, but it was fuzzy. A grimy warehouse, something she couldn’t really remember. She shook it off and realized they were at a rest area and Dean was on the phone in the front seat. Lear was asleep against her, his chest rising and falling softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean said, running his thumbnail over his lip, “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He hummed and Jude unbuckled, scooting forward until her chin was on the seat. She watched Dean, every line in his body screaming stress, before he whipped around to face her. His eyes were wide, and he looked… _Terrified_. He flashed in front of Jude’s vision, going from the Dean that had previously been sitting there and a Dean that was covered in muck, dirt, and blood. It travelled from a cut on his forehead to the tip of his nose, where it dropped off as he frantically yelled at Jude. Sometimes it was like she was seeing double: the Dean that was clean and calm and the Dean that was screaming at the top of his lungs. Jude was dizzy, and she rubbed her eyes trying to see which one was real.“You have to wake up!” He bellowed, reaching out to grab at her shoulders and collar. “Jude, _please_ , you have to wake up!”

Lear, from behind her, seized her arm. She whipped around to look at him as Dean continued to scream at her. “Don’t leave me, Sunshine.” Lear said in a small voice. It broke her heart, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“It’s not real!” Dean cried, “Please, you have to wake up or you’ll die.” He sounded broken, terrified, and Jude looked back to him. The Dean that had been driving was gone, leaving the panting and bleeding Dean that scared Jude to her core. Her heart was pounding in her ears and Lear had begun to dig his nails into her arm, right on the inside of her elbow. It hurt. “This is just a dream,” Dean said, his voice shaking, “And you have to wake up now.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Lear urged, “Don’t you want to stay with me?” Her brother began to cry, but Jude was so confused that she didn’t pull away from Dean to comfort him. “Does it matter if I’m not real?”

The breath was stolen from Jude’s lungs, ice crawling through her body until it curled around her throat and left her terrified. “You’re not real?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lear said, “If I’m real or not. Because you’re here to take care of me, right?” Jude looked back to Dean, and his eyes focused on something to his right. He turned his head, frantically calling out for Sam. Sam wasn’t in the front seat anymore, Jude realized. Where had he gone? “Right?”

“I’ve got her, I’m talking to her, I think. If I let her go I’m not sure I’ll get her back.” Jude watched as tears began to track down Dean’s grimy face. He was talking to someone she couldn’t see and it scared the shit out of Jude.

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Jude wrapped her free hand around his wrist. “I’m scared.” Her eyes flickered focus between both of Dean’s and then his face changed. Not back to the Dean from that morning, but to something determined and powerful. It looked primal, like he had finally processed something she was saying. Could he not hear her before? Was there a disconnect? What was happening?

“It’s okay, Sweetheart,” He said, his voice strong, “Sammy and I are gonna get you out, we’re gonna keep you safe.” He nodded, and Jude nodded back at him, her heart taking off even faster. Something was wrong, she thought. Her body felt like TV static, filling up with energy she couldn’t burn. “Come on, you’re almost here. You just gotta wake up.”

“I can’t,” Jude cried, the energy draining from her almost immediately. She felt, very suddenly, like she was trudging through thick mud. “It’s real, I don’t know what’s happening.” Dean looked scared, then, before he locked it down. He turned to the side - that didn’t make any sense to Jude! They were in the Impala - and called frantically for Castiel, and then for Gabriel.

Lear was in the front seat, then, his eyes shining with tears. “If you leave me, I’ll die.” He screamed. “I’ll die here, don’t you understand? You’ll kill me, Jude, you promised to keep me safe!” Lear almost never called her Jude. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Dean, and then all at once the world fell away.

She felt like she was being baptized, thrust under the icy water and then pulled back up to the surface, gasping for air. Jude shivered, hands turned into claws on the forearms of whoever was holding her. He was cooing at her, talking rapidly to the group around them.

But Jude couldn’t really hear anything past the pounding in her ears and the rattling of her teeth. She was in a warehouse, the warehouse from her nightmares, and she wasn’t sure what had been real and what hadn’t been real. Jude couldn’t make herself speak, only loll her head back to see who was standing around her. Dean was holding her, Sam standing behind him with Castiel at his side. Ellen and Jo were on her other side, and Desmond was nowhere to be seen.

With a start, Jude realized that Lear was also gone. She had never gotten her brother back, and was no closer to being away from Desmond or knowing her father. Somehow everything had been fake, and she didn’t know how.

When she began to sob, large cries that shook her whole, aching body, Dean held her close to his chest.

“I know, Jude.” He sighed into her hair. “I know.”


	7. "sometimes i think all i’m ever doing is trying to convince myself i’m alive.“

**content warnings: suicidal ideation, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, psychological manipulation & confusion, parental abandonment**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=ZDdhOWJmODkzM2NmYTU3MDk3NzEwZTljNzM5YjJmOTFkMDA2MzlkYix2R3pyQUhQMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190481318655%2Fch7-sometimes-i-think-all-im-ever-doing-is&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NmJmZDM4ODVjNmU4Zjg2MjgwYWRhZGQ2NTBjYTYxZWM4NGU0ZTc2Nix2R3pyQUhQMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190481318655%2Fch7-sometimes-i-think-all-im-ever-doing-is&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

They wrapped Jude in a shock blanket before they moved her too much. She was shivering, she knew that much, but she didn’t remember much after that. The next thing she knew she was in a motel room. Jude could hear everyone talking in the room adjacent to hers, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Jude only wanted to see one person, and she couldn’t even think his name without beginning to cry. Dean had put her in Ellen’s car and then began to avoid her like the plague which jarred her at first, but then she realized nothing was real. None of the bunker, nothing at the Roadhouse… None of it was real. She hadn’t… Nothing was real. Jude laid some facts down for herself so that she could have something to remember. She had to remember something real.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Sam opened the door, bearing a bag full of Chinese take out. It was her favorite order and Jude had the fleeting thought wondering where he had learned that. He smiled at her, spoke to her, but she stood at the window with the blanket wrapped around her and stared at him blankly. She watched as he began to unpack the food, still talking animatedly to her. He was trying to make her feel better, Jude realized. It wasn’t working.

She sat in front of the food but didn’t eat. It felt like she was seeing herself from outside of her body, as if she was the center of the room and everything was orbiting around her. It made Jude dizzy. She was still staring at her fried rice when the door opened again and Dean slithered in, keeping himself very small and pressed against the wall. Castiel and Gabriel followed him, the door never opening more than a foot.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Sam was sitting across from her, speaking in low tones. Jude tuned in finally, like a radio switching from AM to FM. ”-Cas and Gabriel are here, and so is Dean.“ Jude could barely contain her flinch when Sam said his name, something like a knife of ice twisting in her gut. "Ellen and Jo left to tell Desmond. He’s been out of his mind with worry. He should be here soon.”

Slowly, Jude nodded. All at once Sam came to life, twisting to face the trio of men standing by the door. He looked at Dean, and they shared a Look. “We were gonna have Cas heal you, but Gabriel made the case for himself. He’s an archangel, you know, more juice than Cas, who’s just a seraph.” Gabriel stepped forward then, moving slowly yet surely.

“Hey, Weechester,” Jude tracked him with her eyes, trying to look anything but as hollow as she felt inside. “I’m just going to heal you, okay?” She nodded again, her eyes unfocusing as she felt Gabriel set his palm gently on her shoulder, the grace filling her with something that should have felt like hope but felt too much like pity for her to take comfort. The aches lifted away from her body, and she removed her arms from the shock blanket to look at her elbow. Jude half expected to see bruises in the form of Lear’s hands, but there wasn’t even a mark from the IV that she had watched Ellen take out of her arm. She touched her face where Desmond had struck her in… In whatever that was. That dream, that not-real world. When she pressed down, it didn’t hurt.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Jude met Gabriel’s worried eyes and nodded at him once. He stood and addressed the room. “I have other abilities because of my status in heaven. Castiel can… Detain memories for a small amount of time. I can completely nuke them.”

Dean stepped forward, his brows furrowed and his face tense. Jude watched him, a deeper, colder ache growing beneath each side of her rib cage. His jaw was tense, and he pointed a heavy finger at Gabriel. “You tellin’ me you can take this shit all away from her?”

“I can try.” Gabriel emphasized. Jude slowly turned to look at him, everything in her trying to process what they were talking about. “Humans are easy to manipulate, but not Little Winchester here. I’m surprised the Djinn got the drop on her, because I certainly didn’t.” Jude watched as Dean looked away, toward Castiel, and then back to Gabriel. “I can’t change the way she is now, this weird zombie thing she’s got going on, with regular grace. It’ll take a lot more.”

“Dean,” Sam admonished, grabbing his brother’s forearm. “You can’t do this to her. You know what it’s like to come out of something like that. You can’t just take her memories and expect her to be okay with that.”

“So we don’t tell her,” Dean argued, “So he nukes those memories and we move on with our lives.” Sam and Dean shared another Look and it was like that was their main mode of communication. Jude’s eyes moved slowly to Castiel, but he was staring at the floor. She was beginning to catch up to the conversation, to understand what they were talking about.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Jude caught Gabriel’s arm just before he pressed two fingers to her forehead. Her grip was tight on his wrist, and her eyes met his. Nobody in the room moved for a breath until she spoke, her voice was nothing more than a desperate whisper in a storm of turbulent emotions. “Don’t,” She whispered, “Please. I want to keep the memories.”

Panic rose in her system at the thought of losing the time, however fake, she had with Dean. With Lear. With Sam. She held Gabriel’s gaze, pleading with him as her eyes filled with tears. They pooled on her waterline and then dropped over the edge, colliding with one another and rolling off of her jaw to her lap. Gabriel softened and nodded, stepping away from her. The reaction was immediate - Jude dropped back into the near comatose state that she had been existing in since she woke up in Dean’s arms.

She pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and seemed to hear Desmond’s truck pull up before anyone else did. The discussion in the room halted when the door opened and Desmond stepped through. Something in Jude seized and her back straightened. In a flash she could feel Desmond’s hands on her, pulling her over the table and his fist slamming into her face again… And again… And again…

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

She pushed away from him violently when his hand grazed her bicep to pretend to care for her. The chair she had been sitting on clattered back, and her chest heaved. Desmond got that look in his eye, that look that told her to be careful where she tread next.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“Don’t touch me.” Jude whispered, averting her eyes to the floor. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Her voice rose in pitch, changing from something usually strong to something feral and animalistic. Jude realized, then, that it felt light over her eyes and around the sides of her head, like the blinders had been removed.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

She hadn’t taken her medicine since the night she had been stolen from the truck. Jude swayed when she took several decisive steps away from Desmond, and he followed. “Hey, man,” Dean spoke up, “Don’t push her.”

“Shut up, Winchester. I’m her father.” Desmond snarled back, turning his face over his shoulder but never removing his eyes from Jude. She felt cornered, like he was a predator and she was wounded prey. There were, of course, four other people in the room who would go to bat for her, but that didn’t matter.

Not when she was grieving the loss of a life she never truly had.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“You’re not my father,” Her voice warbled, cracking and breaking like fault lines were carved into her very soul. “You’ll never be my father!” Desmond, if only for a moment, looked truly wounded. “Get out.” Jude demanded. “Get out!” On the table next to where she had been sitting, a glass rattled and then shattered. The men jumped, but Jude remained impassive, glaring at Desmond as the hurt and the cold and the grief mixed together and boiled into explosive anger.

“I’ll be back in the morning to collect you, Sunny.” Desmond barked. “You better be here.” He turned and slammed the door on his way out. Jude could hear him barely give his old truck enough time to switch gears before he was pulling away from the motel, most likely going to stew on his anger until he came to get her.

As soon as the roar from the truck became inaudible, Jude collapsed. The anger burned out and left her charred, and she clawed at her throat as she screamed. She could feel heaving sobs take over her body, could hear the men around her scrambling to get her to calm down, but it wasn’t until Dean collapsed next to her that she calmed even a little bit. He pulled her into his lap, moving until his back was pressed against the foot of the motel’s bed. Jude clung to Dean, hands twisted in his flannel as she struggled to breath against his chest.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“I know it hurts,” Dean began. His mouth was pressed into the crown of Jude’s head, but she heard him loud and clear. “I know it hurts to come back to this, but you have to. This life is so much better than whatever you had there, I know. I had everything I wanted, but Sammy and I weren’t like real brothers. I couldn’t stay, couldn’t give that up. There’s always a catch, Jude, always. You just have to focus on that.”

“I want to go back.” She whimpered.

“I know, sweetheart.” Jude’s heart seized at the term of endearment, tears rolling faster and hotter as Dean squeezed her tighter. “I know you want to go back, but you can’t. You were gone for a few hours and it did this to you, what would happen if you were gone for days? A week? You would have died in there.” Dean’s voice warbled. “I know it would have felt like years to you, a lifetime, but you would have realized it wasn’t real. Eventually you would have, and then it would have been too late.”

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Jude shook her head, muffling a cough into Dean’s chest before speaking. “But I had Lear back.” Her voice broke, and saying his name sent a fresh wave of tears and guilt racketing through her. “I was keeping my promise. You and me had talked, and you wanted me to live at the bunker with you. Desmond was gone.” Jude sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “I want to go back, because that can never happen, because Desmond won’t ever leave me alone, I’ll never see Lear again, and you don’t want me.” Dean’s arms tightened on her again, but he didn’t speak.

“Dude,” Sam said from somewhere above them, “You have to talk to her at some point. You can’t let her keep thinkin’ like this.” Dean sighed, the movement rocking her as she continued to cry. “It’s cruel.”

“Fine,” Dean rumbled, “Once she calms down, I’ll get her to eat and then I’ll have a talk with her.” He shifted and Jude shuddered, her lungs burning. “Get out, she’ll probably calm down faster without three people breathing down her shoulder.” Sam grumbled, but left, and Dean began to stand. He groaned but made it to his feet, cradling Jude to his chest. She was small for her age, skinny and short even though she had been growing, so it wasn’t hard to fold her up and keep her from falling out of his hold.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“I will not be leaving, Dean.” Castiel stated matter-of-factly. “I have grown fond of young Jude, and I would like to see the completion of her emotional expression. I would also like to be present for your conversation, as I feel like I have a unique perspective and also more knowledge of Jude as a whole.”

Dean settled her into a chair, Jude still clinging to his flannel as he crouched in front of her. “Fine,” He snapped, “Then make yourself useful and go get a washcloth. Wet it with water.” Dean hesitated, one large hand moving to wipe across Jude’s cheek. “Cold water, Cas!” He called over his shoulder like an afterthought. “I need you to calm down for me, Sweetheart.”

Jude whimpered, her eyes closing. “Please don’t call me that.” She began to curl in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso, but Dean stopped her. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” Castiel returned with the washcloth and gently Dean began to run it underneath Jude’s eyes, cooling the blotchy irritation from her crying jag. He held it on each of her cheeks, trying to cool them, before he wiped away the tears that had curved around her chin to roll down her neck. Jude shivered and Dean wiped away the water left by the rag with the sleeve of his flannel.

“There,” He said, voice low and soothing even though he looked more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him. “It doesn’t seem all better, but it seems better. Do you think you can eat?”

Jude pushed her tongue around her mouth, running it over the front of her top teeth. She cringed, the taste of crying still stuck against the enamel, and shook her head. “I don’t feel good.” Dean cocked his head and she looked away, doing her best to put a cap on her emotions lest she explode again. “Dean, you don’t have to be here.”

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“I know,” He sighed, “At least drink something for me, okay?” Reluctantly, she nodded. Dean reached behind himself to the table where the Chinese food still lay and picked up the take out cup that sat there, as well. “It’s Sprite, I think. Here, take small sips.”

“I do not understand what the size of the sips has to do with the intake of fluid, Dean.” Castiel sat down across the table, templing his hands on the table. Jude looked past Dean, doing as he instructed, mostly because it was less painful to look at Castiel than at Dean.

“It’s so she doesn’t hurl, Cas.” Dean set the cup back on the table when she was done and wiped under her eyes once more. “Do you want to talk?” Jude shook her head. “Then can you try to eat some rice for me? I don’t know if you like it, but it’s my favorite.” Dean moved out of her line of view, but sat another chair as close as he could get. “Here.”

Jude’s hand closed around the fork and Dean brought the rice closer to her. He encouraged her to eat, soft words and slow movements until nearly a quarter of the rice was gone. Jude shook her head, her stomach rumbling ominously. Jude laid her head down on the table as Dean moved to clean things up, clearly avoiding a confrontation. The cool wood of the motel table on her cheek felt good. It was cool, and it kept her grounded. It was easier to pretend that the sounds she was hearing was someone very decidedly Not-Dean instead of Dean.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Eventually Dean reclaimed his seat next to her. She raised her head to look at him, her stomach churning dangerously. “I don’t want to talk.” She croaked, “I don’t want to hear that you don’t want me. I know, Dean. It’s fine. I’ll get over this like I get over everything else.” She wiped her hands down her face and looked to Castiel. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Cas. I’m sorry if I’ve made things tense.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Dean cut her off, drawing her attention back to him. He looked serious, and she couldn’t see any of his ticks that told her he wanted to leave. “I don’t think you understand what happened. And I’m sorry.”

“Dean, please.” Jude sounded strained, looking away from him. “Please, don’t make me listen to this after waking up from that. I don’t know what that was, and I don’t need to try and figure it out and deal with whatever you’re about to tell me.”

“You were captured by a Djinn.” Castiel punctuated his sentence with a nod, as if that explained everything. “They are a powerful race of creatures and they feed on the blood of humans.”

“That doesn’t explain anything, Cas.” Her voice came out more rough than she intended it and he flinched. Jude felt the guilt creep up her spine, every emotion swirling around and nearly suffocating her. “It doesn’t explain what I saw, it doesn’t explain why it hurts so much to miss something I never had.” Jude spared a glance toward Dean, her eyes already filling with tears once more. He had the decency to look downtrodden, at least. “It doesn’t explain how one minute I’m in real life and the next Dean’s shaking me awake, telling me if I stay there I’ll die.” Jude slammed a fist down on the table, Dean and Castiel jumping as a fork flew off of the table even though it had been half a foot away from her hand. “I don’t understand.”

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Dean’s hand slid over her shoulder, and he sighed. “I know, Jude.”

“You were taken just after Gabriel left you the night you fell asleep in the truck.” Castiel offered, his blue eyes wide and honest. Jude’s body began to buzz with the urge to shake Dean’s hand off, but she allowed him that much. “From the research I have conducted, there may have been a moment of warmth-”

“-I thought that was you.” Jude interrupted. She was horrified, looking between Dean and Castiel, “I thought that it was you, or Gabriel, warming me up so that I could sleep.” She covered her mouth. “That was the Djinn taking me?”

“Poisoning you.” Dean supplied from her left. “Djinn work by poisoning their victim, removing their blood through an IV, and hope that they don’t realize that they’re in a dream. You could live out years in the hallucination, but it would only be days out here.”

“And how do you know?” Jude whirled on Dean, some of the fire back in her eyes. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she tried to reel herself in but it didn’t really work. “You keep saying you know, you keep saying you understand but you don’t! You understood in there, but you don’t understand out here.” She began to cry again and Dean softened.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“You’re right, I do keep saying that.” He confessed, “When I was stuck in the hallucination that the Djinn gave me I had to eat a bullet. Gabriel put me in yours for just long enough to get you so that you didn’t have to do that. Because I do understand that. And… And, honestly? I’m scared, Jude. Every Winchester has died and come back to life at least once. I don’t want that for you. You’re safer with Desmond than with me.”

“You should have left me in there.” Jude said, her voice dropping to nearly inaudible. “You should have let me die, Dean. That’s the only way I could be safe in this life.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean’s voice pitched toward anger, and Castiel said his name in a warning tone. The men shared a Look, but a different Look than the one Dean usually shared with Sam. It seemed to mean more.

“You don’t know anything.” Jude muttered. “You don’t know what I had. You don’t know what we talked about. You don’t know why my brother’s name is Lear, and you don’t know why I love Willie Nelson’s Bridge Over Troubled Water or what my favorite George Thorogood record is. You don’t know shit, Dean, because you ran. Because you’re scared.” She seethed, feeling tired and drained from the emotional olympics she was competing in. “That’s what that thing made me see. You’re too scared to be a Dad so you leave me with Him.”

Something fluttered in Jude’s chest, and Castiel cocked his head as he observed her. She rubbed a hand over her sternum and grimaced as Dean looked at her, shell shocked.

“I am scared.” He finally confessed, “You’re right. I’m afraid you’re going to die, and if I can stop that from happening, I will.” Jude knew the tone of finality that a man’s voice took on when he made a decision, and she backed down. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Jude. I just want you to be safe more than anything.”

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Jude chewed on the inside of her cheek while she worked on slipping a mask over her face. She needed to give off the illusion of aloofness, as if she didn’t have reactions or feelings to what Dean was saying. “Okay.” She said, voice flat and soft. Dean sighed and she watched from her peripherals as he wiped a hand down his face.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“Kid…” He stood and turned away, hands on his hips. “You should get some rest.” Just like that, the discussion was over, and Jude knew she was going to leave with Desmond when he arrived back at the motel in the morning. Castiel looked between the other two people in the room, exasperated. Jude, at least, managed to give him a sad smile.

“Dean, I do not think this discussion is over.” He stood and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, the two sharing another meaningful look. Jude flushed and looked away, ready for them both to leave so that she could curl up under the shitty, scratchy motel blankets and pretend like she was okay. “We should continue.”

“Cas, it’s fine.” Jude stood and gathered the shock blanket closer to her body. She was still covered in grime, and dirt, but that didn’t really matter. “I should get to sleep, Desmond will be here to pick me up in the morning.” Dean turned to her and smoothed back her hair, pressing a tender kiss to her hairline before removing himself from the room. She could feel the grief rolling through her in waves as she watched the door shut, but then Castiel was there in front of her.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Jude managed a half smirk, to which Castiel mirrored Dean’s soft moment: he smoothed her hair back from her face, as well. “He is hurting you.”

“Yes.”

“I will not pretend to not understand his side of this, but I will also not pretend I am turning a blind eye to the things you are hiding from him. I heard your prayer that night, but I was protecting Sam. I had to send it to Gabriel.” Jude shrugged at him, tired eyes gazing up at him. “Your phone call… It made me feel strongly. Pity, sadness, anger.”

Jude stepped forward and wrapped Castiel into a hug, to which the angel stiffened before hugging him back. “I’m sorry, Cas. You’re a good man, but you don’t have to become my stand-in Dad. If Dean doesn’t want to be that, you don’t have to be that.” Castiel smiled down at her and gestured to the bed.

“If you shall ever need me, Fledgling, all you must do is call. Dean may not show it, but it is the same for him.” Castiel walked toward the door, intent on leaving that as his goodbye. Jude took a tentative step toward Castiel, inhaling to speak. He paused, his beige back still turned to her. “Yes. He heard your call. He stayed on the other line, but with great pain in his heart. I stole him from inside the deepest, darkest chambers of Hell and it seemed to be nothing compared to the way he felt hearing your voice. Get some rest, Fledgling.”

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Castiel disappeared and then Gabriel appeared in his place, the usual jovialness lost. Jude thought it felt wrong - Gabriel’s face without a dimple showing? Without mirth? She had only truly met the angel once but she knew that it was out of place for him.

Jude crawled onto the bed, curling in on herself. She propped herself half against the headboard and half against the wall as Gabriel stood near the edge of the bed. “Thank you for not takin’ my memories.” She finally spoke, after several moments of tense silence. “I know that you could have taken them and I never would have known.”

“Angels are all about autonomy, Weechester.” He gestured loosely with one hand, the other tucked in his pocket. “Even the guy I’m wearing had to give me the big y-e-s, just like good ol’ Aunt Mary.” Jude snorted, and it got a smile from Gabriel. “Look, I know my little brother already gave you the talk about praying to him, but I want you to know that extends to me, too.” Gabriel looked serious again, but also uncomfortable. Jude liked that, because she, too, felt uncomfortable. “I’m not too good with serious, but I wanted to say it to your face. If you’re anything like Dean, you won’t ask for help until you’re bleeding out.”

Jude laughed, nodding. “Well, you’re right. I’d probably rather die.” Gabriel disappeared in a blink, leaving Jude truly alone for the first time since she woke up. Her chest began to feel like it was opening up, like it was sucking in everything around it like a black hole. She felt empty, she felt like screaming and crying and breaking her fist against a wall but also like laying down to sleep and never waking up.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather._

Eventually Jude let herself drift into a fleeting, light sleep plagued by revolving dreams and nightmares about her time under the Djinn’s poison.

_My name is Jude Smith, I’m twelve years old, my brother is named Lear, and I hunt monsters with my stepfather. My real Dad doesn’t want me._


	8. “come on, make it easy. say i never mattered.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, argument, self-worth issues**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=Yjk3NmQ1ZGU0YzA4NjE0YmNiZmVlODA4Njg1NmIxYzI4ZjVjM2RlOCxYTHFNbzZzQQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190610697547%2Fch8-come-on-make-it-easy-say-i-never&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=OWIwOTRmNTBlYTgzYzhlNWEzMGQzYzEzNmRlMmY3MjgxZGQ5MTNiMyxYTHFNbzZzQQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190610697547%2Fch8-come-on-make-it-easy-say-i-never&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -  
  


Ellen and Jo saw her off the next morning and they both kept her wrapped up in their arms for much longer than necessary. Jude promised to call them both, but wasn’t sure if she was going to keep that promise. Her mind was still reeling, and she was still going over the facts of her life - her _real_ life and not the made up Djinn bullshit. Castiel raised one hand to her, leaning against the Impala, and Sam did the same. She waved to the both of them, reserving a small smile for Castiel. He had done so much for her when he really didn’t have to.

Dean, however, just watched her climb into Desmond’s truck and leaned against the motel. His eyes were hard and his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to keep it together. Jude sighed and watched him as Desmond reversed out of the motel parking space - Dean’s face filled with terror and regret for a split second before he turned, hitting his fist against the wall. It seemed too familiar to Jude - wasn’t that what she had done that night that Gabriel visited her? Bruised her own knuckles against the truck? Desmond pulled out onto the road and Jude watched as Ellen moved to comfort Dean, but when she couldn’t take it anymore Jude faced forward. Bile rose in her throat.

Jude wasn’t sure what to expect after the drive was over, but it certainly wasn’t Desmond pulling up to a storage unit facility close to dusk and telling her to get out of the truck. She followed him, pulling her hoodie tighter around her body. She was tired, her body was sore even though she had been healed by Gabriel. “What?” She asked, doing her best to keep a snark out of her voice, “Not goin’ to teach me a lesson?”

“Your lesson is your hunt, bitch.” Desmond led her through the maze of units until they were at the back of the facility and he stooped to unlock the unit. “It’s a simple case. Family moved into house, family has a ghost. For ten years people have moved in and moved out six months later, all claiming paranormal. Figured I’d send you to cut them a break. You can’t fuck it up that badly.” Jude scowled, but didn’t say anything. “Usually I’d leave this car here, in case the truck was every compromised, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive my truck.”

“I’m twelve, Desmond, there’s no way that I’ll get _anywhere_ drivin’.” She scowled at the old Toyota Corolla and tried to date it. It was probably 1975, and a pale yellow color. Jude loved it - but she wasn’t going to let Desmond know that. She had a hard enough time when he just thought she liked something because it usually ended up broken or missing. He couldn’t let her have anything.

“They don’t know that if we fake a driver’s license, dumbass.” Desmond took the keys off of a hook on the wall and tossed them to her, letting her inspect the car as he went to fetch the gas can from the back of the truck. Jude walked around it, looking at the wear and tear of time on the exterior. In the back of the unit there were at least twenty license plates in a stack, all in various states of rusting. She ran a finger over one, and then popped the trunk on the Corolla. It was empty, and smelled of stale smoke. Jude wrinkled her nose and shut the trunk, walking around to the front of the car.

Desmond was back, gassing up the car as she popped the hood. Surprisingly there was newer engine dropped into the Corolla, and Jude began checking to make sure everything would work when she tried to turn the car on. He’d probably take off the moment he was done giving her the information, and Jude really didn’t want to hitchhike to the nearest auto store to fix a car when she didn’t know the specs. Desmond tossed the gas can toward the back of the unit, grabbing her by the bicep as she leaned over to snag the dipstick to check the oil. He pulled her away, and she stumbled. Jude barely stayed on her feet, the vertigo hitting her all at once.

“You think I can’t take care of a car?” Desmond growled, dangerously close to her ear. “Get the fuck back.” Desmond pushed her and Jude barely kept herself upright. Desmond took the oil cap off, anyway, and filled it. She tried not to say anything, biting the inside of her cheek so hard blood burst in her mouth. Jude almost wanted Desmond to hit her, because she could at least deal with that. She couldn’t deal with the words and feelings, but bruises were easy. They were cut and dry. “The case file is on the trunk. I would read it if I were you. Not like you can pretend to be anything important.” She did her best to tamp down her attitude, but leaned against the car to read what Desmond had put together for her.

It was the bare minimum - Jude wondered if Desmond had done that on purpose. It seemed, like Desmond had said, that a family would move in and then six months later they would high tail it out of there, claiming threatening paranormal activity. The history of the house was hard to follow - it was a safehouse during the civil war, but there were no reported deaths on its grounds. The only death reported, in fact, was the death of an elderly old man with a habit of killing the local stray cats. Jude pursed her lips, wondering if he was just as twisted in death, chasing families out of his home. She also wondered what exactly was happening in the homes to drive the families out.

And, oddly enough, no stray cats were being reported as intentionally killed. She would have expected if that’s what the man was known for, but Jude never was good at predicting ghosts. There was little to no information on the family that lived there, and was being terrorized, besides the fact that it was a mother, father, and daughter. She took out her phone to calculate how long it would take to get to the home’s address - it was nearly six hours away.

Jude was already beginning to map out her trip and the stops that she would make on the way to the home. She needed more rock salt and maybe a new bag. Her duffel was starting to fray and she’d much rather lift a new one before it was dead than be stuck with two guns, a knife, and three journals that she had to leave out in the open. At least if she got pulled over with those things in a bag there was a chance she’d get away without a felony or two.

Fuck, she thought, she’d need to stop for more ammo too… That wasn’t easy enough for her to steal, so she’d have to spend actual money on it… Jude shook her head, realizing that even that wasn’t feasible. She’d rather go into the hunt wielding her knife and salt before trying to life ammo from a shop. That was too risky, and she’d rather be back with those demons or with the Djinn before asking Desmond to get her some more bullets.

Jude moved back to the front of the car, setting the manilla envelope on the front seat before she made her way back to the truck to collect her things. Desmond was standing there, both of her bags at his feet, as he inhaled on a cigarette. Jude wrinkled her nose and hoped that her clothing wouldn ’t smell too much like smoke. He gestured at her bags with a raised eyebrow. “Pound concrete, girl. I’ll meet you back at the Roadhouse when you’re done. You better not show without proof you got the ghost.”

Jude hefted the bags over her shoulders and turned back to the car without replying, instead focusing on loading her bags in the floor of the passenger seat. She prayed to whoever was listening that she wouldn’t get pulled over, and then turned back to Desmond’s looming figure. He had followed her over, letting his cigarette dangle dangerously close to Jude’s shoulder. Desmond held out another manilla envelope, scowl set deep behind his beard. “What’s this?” Jude raised her eyebrows and did her best to subtly scuttle away from the cigarette.

“Got a license, social security card, and everything you need for the car ‘case you get pulled over.” He stepped even closer and Jude’s face set into a hard mask of anger when he twisted his hand in her hoodie and pulled her face closer to his. He held the cigarette in front of her face, and she swore that she could feel the heat from the lit tip. “Swear to God, girl, you have to use any of that I’ll tan your hide when I get word. And trust me-”

“-You’ll get word?” She scowled, trying not to egg him on but not letting him see that she was afraid, either.

Desmond cocked his head and let her go, stomping his cigarette out underneath his boot. Jude stumbled backward into the Corolla. She huffed and watched as Desmond strode back to the truck, taking off without even staying to check to see if the car started. Jude sighed, finally taking her seat behind the wheel. She took a second to press her head against the steering wheel, her hands shaking in her lap. Jude clenched her fist around the keys, calming a little bit when the teeth bit into her palm.

Finally she decided she had to move on. Like with her mother, like with Dean, she had to move on. The Djinn poisoned her, it wasn’t real, and it would never happen. Her name was Jude Smith, she was twelve years old, she had a little brother, and she was going on her first hunt. That’s what she had to remember. Jude had to push everything else out of her head, and get the ghost that was terrorizing that family. She finally turned the key in the ignition and sighed when the car turned over with no trouble. She moved the car out of the storage unit and then parked to shut the door. It finalized Jude’s move - she really was going on the hunt.

The sun had given way to night, and it made Jude shiver. She looked for the phone that Dean had given her before pausing to close her eyes and shift an arm around her chest. That was in the Djinn dream, not in real life. Jude reached for the radio, surprised to see that it was new, like the engine. It even had an aux cord attached, which she was delighted to see. She plugged in her phone, hoping the Corolla began to warm up quickly, and then she was ready to go.

Driving to Jude was nerve wracking in the most purely enjoyable way. She had to be perfect, otherwise she’d get pulled over but as long as she did that she was free as a bird. It didn’t matter, if she were to get pulled over, that her rich, green eyes were outlined by thick lashes and her full lips easily pulled into a pout. No police officer would let her flirt her way out of a ticket when they got to the window and realized that she was twelve and not twenty. Jude was no use to Lear if she got thrown in juvie because of something so stupid.

Jude shook the thoughts out of her head and settled on a modern playlist, something that wouldn’t remind her of Dean. It was nice, a mix of mid two thousands alternative music - some of her favorites. She pulled out on the road, and according to her GPS she had a six hour drive ahead of her. She was going from Bennington, Nebraska - which was her mother’s hometown and where the storage unit was located- to Branson, Missouri.

Desmond had given her enough gas for maybe an hour of travel, so she pulled over to fuel up just outside of the nearest city. She pulled her hair back and slipped on a baseball cap, hoping to somehow look older than twelve when she entered the gas station. There was something about her thin face that made people think she was of age when she was, in fact, nowhere near of age.

Jude was browsing the snack food when she caught sight of a newspaper, her heart jumping into her throat. She snagged it, something sour and melancholic growing in her stomach. Her breath caught, and she stepped forward to drag a fingertip over the date on the paper.

Jude had missed her own thirteenth birthday while she was recovering from the Djinn induced dream. There was something distressing about the idea that she was wishing she was dead on the day that she was born. She pressed a fist to her mouth and tried to steady her nerves. Jude heard the wings before she felt the man standing next to her and didn’t jump as Castiel spoke. “I sensed your distress.”

“Yeah,” Jude managed to choke out. “I missed my birthday.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, and Jude leaned into him. “You did. I am very sorry. I thought that it would be more distressing if you did not find out organically. Perhaps that was my mistake and I should have told her.” He kissed the crown of her head and turned them away from the newspapers. He pressed a wallet into Jude’s hand, thick with cash that she could see even without opening the leather. “This is the wallet of the man that has given me permission to use him as my vessel. He has no reason for this now, and he was planning to donate the money, regardless. It will aid you on your journey, Fledgling.” Her chest felt warm as he used his own little term of endearment.

“Thank you, Cassie.” Jude smiled up at him, and then the man was gone. Jude collected herself and moved to claim a random bag of chips and a soda, paying and heading back to her car. She bounced on her feet as the gas pumped, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them to keep warm. Castiel had given her nearly four hundred dollars in cash, which would help her out immensely. Especially if she decided whether or not she actually wanted to go to the roadhouse after she was done with the hunt. That was a choice she could make - did she go back to Desmond or did she take the Corolla and run?

Back on the road Jude cranked her music up, removing her sunglasses so that she could see the road ahead of her in the dark. She was one of the only cars on the road, cruising just below the speed limit. It was freeing, almost, to be on the road alone. She hated driving - it left her stomach in knots - but at the same time… It was one of the best things she could imagine. It was one of the best things that Desmond had ever let her do.

She was on the road for another three hours and two playlists when her phone began to ring. It was a blocked number, and Jude’s brows pulled down tight over her eyes. She took the next exit on the freeway, nearly immediately finding an open Waffle House to park in front of. She clicked away from the map and answered the call, keeping as silent as she possibly could so that she didn’t alert whoever was on the other line. Finally, they spoke.

“Hello, is this Sunny Smith?”

Jude started as she processed that it was Sam calling her, and her mouth jumpstarted before her brain activated. “Sam! Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s me.” Her uncle sighed loudly on the other side of the phone, but it didn’t sound like relief. Jude didn’t focus too much on that.

“Good. I hoped I had caught you before you went to sleep. I stole your number from Dean’s phone, I figured you wouldn’t care.”

Jude slapped one hand against the steering wheel and licked her lips, mind tumbling a million miles an hour. “Yeah, no, that’s totally fine. I don’t mind. Is everythin’ okay?” Jude turned off the car, picking at the skin on her thumb with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. “Nothing happened after I left, right?”

“Other than Dean finishing the rice we left out all night and getting sick? Nothing important. I wanted to check in on you. You’re too much like Dean, and he’d never tell anyone if he wasn’t doing too hot. Also,” Sam stopped himself for a second, like he was debating, and Jude hummed at him questioningly. “I don’t like Desmond.” He finally confessed, “I just don’t. Is he there with you?”

Jude smiled, watching a couple leave Waffle House, clearly drunk. “No, he’s not. He’s probably still in Bennington, or headin’ to the Roadhouse. I’m on my way to my first solo gig, Sam. I’m runnin’ with the big dogs.” She listened as he choked on air, incredulous at the thought of her hunting on her own. Jude tried not to be offended at the thought - she was perfectly capable! She’d been hunting since she could fire a sawed off without dislocating her shoulder.

“You’re only twelve, Jude.” He stressed, volume tanking. She wondered if Dean had woken up or walked into the room that Sam was taking the phone call in. She wouldn’t be surprised if the younger Wincehster brother hung up if her father got too close while they were talking. “You shouldn’t be hunting solo.”

“Actually I turned thirteen yesterday. Spent the whole damn day nearly in a coma..” Sam stayed silent, so Jude picked back up. “That was what my Mom had always said, you know. When I turned thirteen I got my first solo hunt, and I reckon it’s the only damn good thing Desmond’s done by her since she died.”

“How are you getting there?”

“Oh, I’m driving.”

“You’re driving.” Sam deadpanned. “You’re twe- you’re thirteen. How are you driving?”

“I have a fake license, Sam.” Jude rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “'Sides, I’ve been drivin’ since I was ten more or less. It’s not that hard. And before you worry I pulled over to answer your call. I’m not talking and driving, I’m sure smarter than that.” Her uncle sighed, and she wondered if he ran his hand down his face like Dean did. She also wondered why, exactly, Sam was calling her. He hadn’t really made an effort to talk to her - well, he had… No, that wasn’t real. That was the Djinn poison. That wasn’t the real Sam.

“That’s… Comforting, I guess. Are you planning on stopping for the night?” Jude shrugged even though Sam couldn’t see her, and let the silence hang for a second. She sighed, and ran her hand down her face.

“I’ll probably end up stoppin’. I have another three hours before I even hit the town where the case is, and by that point it’ll be like three in the morning. I can’t do anything if the family ain’t awake and I feel like I been rode hard and hung up wet.”

Sam made a noise at Jude’s turn of phrase, even though she was sure he’d heard worse living in Kansas. “What’s the case?”

Another couple stumbled from the Waffle House, but they looked like they were fighting. Jude wondered what the story there was, but didn’t actually care. “It’s just a ghost. Simple. Get in, find the bones or whatever, and then get out. Nothin’ too intense.”

Sam laughed, but it was tense. “I was worried he’d given you a rugaru, or a Wendigo or something.” Jude snorted, shaking her head as the conversation tapered off. After more than a few seconds of awkward silence, Sam cleared his throat. “Cas told me he visited you, I should probably tell you that before you figure it out on your own. I guess that’s why I called to check in. I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” Jude tracked cars on the freeway behind her in her mirror. “Thanks for that, Sammy, but I’m not exactly family and our relationship has been off like a herd of turtles.”

“You talk like you’re sixty two, Jude, and stop talking like that.” Sam’s voice hardened, and she could almost imagine the face that went with it. “Whether you like it or not, you’re family. I don’t care that Dean didn’t fix his mess-” Jude winced, hoping that Sam didn’t mean it in the way she took it. “-I’ll do my best to be here for you since Dean can’t, or won’t..”

“I appreciate your effort, Sam.” Jude’s voice softened. “Some people just don’t want kids, and that’s okay. I can’t make him want kids, and it would be wrong of me to do that.”

“It wouldn’t!” Sam stressed, like he was trying to convince himself of something rather than Jude. “He needs to take responsibility. You’re family and that means you’re a Winchester. I don’t care if he thinks he’s keeping you safe, or whatever bullshit he’s convinced himself, he’s not. He’s just scared, and he needs to get over himself.” Sam spoke with an air of finality that made Jude’s head spin. It certainly was a harsh right turn in the conversation. Jude smiled ruefully and looked down at her lap.

“It’s nice to know I have someone like you in my corner, Sammy.” She finally said. Jude just hoped that it was true and that Sam really was in her corner. “Cas and Gabriel, too. You’re good people.” At least she knew that they were in her corner, truly.

“You’re good people, too, Jude. Even if you don’t believe it. I’ll let you find a place to bunk down. If you’re still in Nebraska I recommend the Super Eight. It’s usually a good place.” Jude spied a Super Eight across the way, wrinkling her nose.

“Yeah, never had good experiences with Super Eights, Sam. Might just wait 'till I hit Missouri.” Her eyebrows shot up when Sam made a noise from the back of his throat. She wanted it to sound excited, but it fell flat of that.

“Hey, if you’re going from Bennington to Missouri - where in Missouri are you going?”

“Branson.”

She could barely pick up the sounds of typing from the other end, and Sam _harrumphed_. “You’re going through Kansas City, but if you take a detour out to Lebanon you can stay at the bunker until you’re ready to continue on. It’s only a four hour drive to Branson from here. If you want, too, of course. I won’t pressure you into anything.”

“That adds an hour to my drive, Sam. Besides, I’m just outside Kansas City now.” She didn’t want to tell him no, but she didn’t want to see how badly the Djinn had skewed her perception of the bunker. She also didn’t want to see Dean again. Jude also didn’t want to burden Sam with her presence.

“I understand if you say no, but Dean’s been in his room all day after we got back. I doubt he’s going to notice you’re here. I can knock some sense into him in the next hour, and maybe you two can bond.” Jude debated, watching as the last few cars pulled out of the Waffle House. She was the only car left in the parking lot, the chill from outside finally reaching her bones. Jude started the car again and cranked up the heat, sighing.

“Yeah, fine.” She conceded. “It’ll be nice to get to know you more, at least. Cas doesn’t hang out in the bunker, does he?”

“Not usually, but I’m sure if you want him to, he will.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll send a message through Angel CB, see if he picks it up.” Jude said her goodbyes to Sam, who was going to open the garage door for her when she got there. She set her phone up, GPS programmed to Lebanon, Kansas instead of Benson, and pulled back onto the freeway. She arrived with no incident and nearly got so lost that she had to reprogram her GPS. Luckily, she finally found the right road, watching as the looming hill the bunker was built into came into view.

Jude was still shaking from her dilly-dally around Lebanon when she pulled up to the bunker, the door opening as if Sam was keeping a lookout for her. She parked her Corolla next to the Impala, grimacing when she compared the two. Her car was old, rusty but the Impala was impeccably kept.

Sam was there to greet her with a hug, which she awkwardly returned. He seemed hesitant to hug her, and she understood. Sam was chattering to her eighty miles a minute - was he always this chatty, or was it just because he was nervous? Was he just trying to keep her occupied? She decided she didn’t care and lugged her bags into the bunker. The garage door opened into a grand kitchen, and Jude’s eyebrows shot up. “It was passed down to us.” Sam mumbled, explaining the size of the place. “We’re not rolling in cash.”

“Wow. Good to know, 'cause this place looks like y'all buy a new boat when your old one gets wet.” She commented, looking around. Sam had yet to lead her out of the kitchen, and she rolled from the front of her feet to the back. 'You didn’t tell Dean that I was stayin’ here tonight, did you?“

"Nope.” Sam answered, looking rightfully bashful. He flushed, averting his eyes. “If I don’t give him the chance to run away, he can’t. Been like that since we were kids.”

“Solid advice, I guess. I work like that too.” Jude looked around again, taking in the way nothing seemed to be out of place in the kitchen. Who kept it that clean? “Thanks for letting me crash here. Got a couch where I can turn in?”

“Oh, no, we have a bunch of extra rooms. I put new sheets on the bed and cleaned up after I got off the phone with you. Here, it’s down this hall.” The bunker that the Djinn had shown her was eerily similar to the halls she was walking, but little things were off. “It has its own bathroom, so you don’t have to use the communal showers down the hall. Figured that would be best.”

“Yeah,” Jude agreed, “Thanks.”

The room was small, but did have a bathroom shooting off from it. Jude didn’t have much stuff, so she set her bags down by the side of the bed and turned to face Sam. He was hovering in the doorway, looking at her with something unreadable in his eyes. Jude was, frankly, sick of the way that he was looking at her. Dean looked at her the same way if she was being honest with herself. “If you want to shower there’s some stuff in there. It’s extra from a combination of Dean and I’s stash, but something is better than nothing. I’ll be in the library - go back the way we came and then it’s the third door on the right - if you need me. Or, you know, if you just want to visit.” A shower sounded awesome, Jude decided. She headed that way after grabbing her pajamas. The bathroom was sterile, perhaps a little too much so. The appliances were all white and the metals were all stainless steel. It made her feel like she was in a hospital.

She took a moment to appraise herself in the mirror before her shower. It had been a few weeks since Jude had a clean mirror to look at herself in, and it was strange seeing her reflection not covered by dirt and grime on the glass. She looked so much like Dean, she realized. Her mother had always told her that - that she was like a mini version of her father - but Jude had always disagreed. She thought she looked like her mother, even though Lear was nearly a carbon copy of the woman and Jude looked nothing like either of them.

It made something deep within Jude ache that she looked so much like the man that didn’t want her.

She stepped into the shower and immediately felt more relaxed. Her body, though young, was ran ragged and scarred by years of hunting too much, too hastily, and too recklessly. Her hair was long - she’d have to get it trimmed soon. It hung to her waist when wet and that was too long for Jude’s taste. Maybe she’d cut it into a bob, something that hung just above her shoulders. Being cute didn’t matter, she supposed, but it did help her feel better about the life she was forced to live.

Jude barely registered that Sam must have lied to her, because the soap and shampoo she used smelled distinctly like her father. God, her life would be so much easier if both Winchester men had told her to fuck off, but no. Only one did.

After her shower Jude tied her hair back into a bun to keep the wet strands from sticking to her face. She dressed in a John Denver shirt and flannel pants, opting to pull on black socks to protect her feet from the freezing floor of the bunker. She slipped from the room, holding her journal and pen to her chest, as she made her way to the library. Jude wasn’t sure where Dean was lurking, and she was almost afraid to run into him. It was only two days that he had told he he didn’t want her around, and then she showed up in his house. There was not anything more around than that. In fact, showing up in his house was the absolute opposite of not being around.

Luckily, Sam was alone in the library when she arrived. He glanced up at her, smiled, and then returned to the book he was taking notes on. He shifted in his seat like she made him uncomfortable, but Jude pretended not to notice it. She settled herself a few seats away - just far enough to be polite but close enough not to seem rude. Jude began to fill another page, scrawling in small handwriting about the last few days. She dedicated a page to the Djinn, leaving ample room so that she could figure out what they looked like and draw a sketch for whoever she passed the journal on to. Jude had never seen the creature coming - she’d been poisoned with her eyes closed and woke up after the rag-tag group of hunters who’d come to save her had killed it.

After she was done with the Djinn page, she pulled a loose leaf paper from the back of her journal and began a letter to Lear. She wrote, telling him all about what had happened since her last letter. She kept it PG, of course, and perhaps she embellished. If she did, so what? He was six years old, he deserved to think that she was cool, and that her Dad was a superhero. Lear’s dad certainly wasn’t. Jude would lie through her teeth for the rest of her life if it meant that Lear thought the world was better than it actually was.

Jude was sealing the letter into an envelope when she and Sam heard footsteps approaching the library. Castiel sprang into existence on the other side of the table from Jude, and he smiled at her before he cut his eyes to the doorway. Jude followed his eyes, twisting to see who the footsteps belonged to - even though she knew. It was Dean. She had memorized his footsteps from the night he approached her on that merry-go-round.

Dean looked shocked to say the least, but also rough. He looked pale, haggard, and Jude was certain he was drunk. “Oh, so I’m _drunk_ drunk. I didn’t think that I drank that much.” He muttered, leaning against the doorway. Jude felt her emotions sinch, some instinct closing them off. Dean wiped a hand down his face, but didn’t move anymore. She looked impassive, as if she didn’t care that the worst case scenario was playing out in front of her.

“You are not that drunk, Dean.” Castiel said, looking like the cat that got the cream. Jude wondered if he and Dean had fought about her. Guilt curled around her spine once more, and again she wished that someone would go off their rocker and hit her. Jesus Christ, the physical pain was so much easier to deal with than whatever was happening in front of her. (She felt guilty even fronting that thought and began to gnaw on her lip.)

“I invited Jude to crash here for the night. She was passing through on her way to Missouri.” Sam gestured with the pen in his hand, and then brought it to his mouth to chew on the cap. He raised his eyebrows at Dean, as if challenging him. It frustrated Jude to no end that everyone seemed to be able to communicate with looks and she didn’t understand what was happening.

Dean sighed, and then moved to sit next to Castiel. “What’s in Missouri?” He settled his head in his hands, elbows on the table.

It took Jude nearly three seconds to realize he was directly talking to her, and she blinked owlishly at him. She fully expected him to ignore her - he was the one who said he wanted her to stay away 'for her safety’ - and she stumbled over her words for a brief moment. “Oh, there’s a ghost tormentin’ families in Branson. Figured if I could help I should. You know, save people the hassle of moving out after they just moved in.” Dean grunted. “Surprised you guys didn’t catch the case.”

“We got our asses handed to us by that Djinn, in all honesty.” Sam cut in. “Dean got tossed around pretty good, and now he has food poisoning. We’re not in the business of looking for too many cases right now.” Jude swallowed the instinct to apologize to the room, and settled for bobbing her head. She averted her eyes down to her journal, not really seeing the words that she had put on the page. Dean shifted, rapping a knuckle against the oak table to draw her attention.

“What’s that, kid?” He pointed a finger at her journal, and if Jude didn’t know better she’d say he looked soft and fond. But, she knew better. Jude shifted, awkward with three pairs of eyes on her.

“It’s a journal. It’s sort of a Smith family tradition.” She closed the leather bound book and pushed it off to the side, making sure her pen was on the top. “My Nan kept one and passed it to my Mom. She kept one and passed them both to me. Now I’m keepin’ one, and Lear will eventually start one, too. Don’t know who we’ll pass the journals to, though.” Jude shrugged. “I’ll probably give mine to Lear, in all honesty. We’re too poor to paint, too proud to whitewash so it’s the only family heirloom we got.” Dean and Sam shared another Look, and Jude made an indignant noise in the back of her throat. “Guys, it’s not fair that you’re using some fuckin’ form of Family Telepathy when I’m not in on it. Gotta use your words when people don’t understand conversations that in y'alls head.”

The brothers looked stunned by her outburst, and Sam shifted from side to side with a strange look on his face. “It’s sort of a Winchester family tradition, too, Jude. Our grandfather and father both kept journals.” Jude did her best to keep her face impassive, but Dean looked like he was about to hurl. She felt like she was about to hurl. What kind of cruel trick was whatever God who was controlling her life playing on her? They didn’t have to go and just make her a carbon copy of her father like that.

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, softly and tenderly, and seemed to whisper something in a language that Jude could barely understand. It was like Castiel was speaking through water, it almost burned in the back of her mind, but Dean visibly soothed. He still ran, though.

Dean slammed both of his hands down on the table and propelled himself to his feet. “Fuck this.” He growled, stomping around the table and out of the room. Jude felt bile rise in her throat again and she looked to Sam like he would have some sense of direction.

“I’m sorry.” They two spoke at the same time, apologizing for very different things.

“You should talk to him, Jude. Perhaps that would help.” Castiel, sometimes, seemed very much like Lear. Naive, hopeful, optimistic. The world hadn’t beat it out of either of them, yet. Jude hoped that it never would, too.

“Oh, I’m sure that will help. Hi, I’m your daughter that you never knew about and didn’t want and now I’m sleepin’ in your house after you specifically told me you didn’t want me around! Yeah, Cas, that’ll go over great. Won’t put a burr in his saddle or anythin’.” Jude rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. She crossed her arms and chewed on her lip, wondering why she had been crying so much since that night in the vampire nest. Usually she had a cap on her emotions, but since meeting the Winchester boys and their resident angel she couldn’t do it. It was beyond frustrating.

“You are very much like Dean, and I think that it scares him.” Sam nodded in agreement with the angel, “I think if anyone would be able to change his mind about the way that he is treating you that it would be you.” Jude shot Castiel a knowing look, and the angel flushed. She preened at the fact that she and Castiel seemed to be able to communicate with Castiel like Sam and Dean talked to each other.

“Or you.” She teased, a shark grin on her face. “I would say that it can’t hurt to talk to him, but it can.”

“I don’t think it will hurt, if it means something to you.” Sam offered, his brown eyes filled with something like hope. He held his age there, Jude realized. Sam looked wise in the way that he had lived through so much bad there had to be good coming. Jude wondered if she’d ever be like that, or if Dean would ever be like that. Her father seemed very jaded, and she wondered briefly if he was always like that or if he had once been like Lear.

She rose from her chair, sighing dramatically like most teenagers did. “I’ll go talk to him.” She said softly. “Just don’t expect it to go good, folks.” Jude left her journal on the table, confident that neither Sam or Castiel would open it to read it. Jude found herself lost in the hallway where her room was with the realization that she didn’t know where Dean had run off to. She paused by each door, stepping lightly and pressing her ear against them to see if she could hear movement from inside. She had made it several doors past the room she was staying in when she heard the first sign of life: Willie Nelson’s _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ muffled through the wood. Her chest felt heavy as she raised a hand to knock, but she never touched the door.

Dean’s voice, sounding heavy and tired, called out to her. “You can come in, Jude.” She pushed open the door to see Dean sitting at a desk next to a stereo, his phone docked on top of it. He was slumped over the desk, hands interlocked on his neck. Jude shuffled in, one hand on the other arm’s elbow as she hovered in the doorway. “I figure you’re lookin’ to talk.”

“Only if you’re lookin’ to listen.” She shot back, no true attitude in her voice. In fact, she was speaking like she used to speak to Lear when he was having a temper tantrum. She had learned to talk like that the first time she saw a man die. Dean snorted and then gestured loosely to his bed. If she sat on the edge, she’d be less than a foot from Dean. Jude knew that she could trust him - he’d never even moved to hit her - but she was still nervous. It burned through her whole body and make her fingertips quake.

Regardless of any of that, Jude still sat down. Dean didn’t turn to look at her, but he spoke. “What’s really takin’ you to Missouri?”

Jude smiled, looking over Dean’s hunched back to the gun rack that adorned his dresser. She wondered if that’s what her house would look like when she was an adult - if she ever made it to adulthood or had the capability to own a house. “A ghost, the scenic drive. I wasn’t lyin’ about that.” Dean snorted, and finally turned his head to look at her. That just entailed moving his chin toward her, leaving his forehead pressed against his desk. He looked exhausted. “Listen, don’t be mad at Sam.”

“Why would I be mad at Sammy?”

“He offered me a bed for the night. I was just outside Kansas City, and I was just going to find a motel. Figured it was safer to sleep here and add an hour to my drive rather than try to drive it through. Plus my money is pretty tight and my fake ID can only do so much.” Jude watched the puzzle fall together behind Dean’s eyes and she repressed her knee-jerk flinch. Looking into his eyes was just like observing her own in the mirror. It was too familiar, and reminded her that she’d never get away from the reminder of his unwillingness to allow her access into the life he had built. She would see it every day that she looked into a mirror.

“Wait, Desmond’s not here?” Dean sat up, turning his chair to face her. “Figured his slimy ass was crawlin’ around her some-fuckin’-where.” Jude noticed the he swore more when he was tipsy, and tucked that information away.

“Turns out I spent my thirteenth birthday wantin’ to kill myself and eating fried rice that later gave you food poisoning.” Jude shrugged. “My Mom said my first solo go was going to be when I turned thirteen, and Desmond actually stuck with that.” Dean covered his mouth, propping his arm up on his other arm. “Gave me a fake license and an old Corolla and found me an easy, simple case. Not like I couldn’t handle more, though.”

“You’re hunting alone?” Dean sounded choked, as if he couldn’t believe it. “He just sent you off without supervision?”

“He used to leave me alone with a newborn when I was barely three years old, Dean.” Jude deadpanned. She almost missed the flinch when she said his name - almost. “At least I have experience with salting and burnin’ a ghost, and I’m not seven, either. I’m thirteen, more than capable.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

Jude rolled her eyes, pulling one of her feet under the opposite thigh. “I don’t disagree, but that’s that, I guess. This is the hand I was dealt, I’m just playin’ the cards, man.” Dean swallowed hard and looked away from her, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Look, dude.” The hardening of her voice drew his attention and it clashed with the casual way that she was sitting. “I understand that you want to look good in front of Cas or Sam or whatever, but it’s just us here. You can tell me that you don’t give a fuck about me, and I won’t be offended. In fact, it might be better for both of us. You don’t have to keep pretending or faking - clearly it’s taking a toll on you.” She watched his chest heave, his eyes wide. It seemed to age him drastically, and Jude almost felt a little guilty. “It’s easy. Just say it and get it over with, because we both know anythin’ else you say is just a damn dog that won’t hunt.”

“It is easy.” Dean choked, leaning forward. Jude flinched back, hands jerking as if she had to protect herself. Her stomach dropped. Dean flinched, then, scooting his desk chair back half a foot. “I’m not going to say it because it’s not true. I’m not just savin’ face with Sammy and Cas. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

“It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, Dean, because you sure as hell don’t act like you’re thrilled to have a kid. You’re pissin’ on my leg and telling me it’s raining.” Jude’s voice was nearly a growl and her face was filled with rage. She was so hurt, but she couldn’t let him see that. If anything, he’d just think she was a punk with anger issues. (That wasn’t entirely untrue, though.) “Tell me: when was the first time you thought I might be your kid?” Dean was silent, jaw jumping. “Tell me, Dean.”

“That night in the diner.” He confessed, playing with his hands. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was like lookin’ in a mirror, kid.”

She summoned every inch of bravery in her system. “Do you know that Desmond hits me, sometimes?” Jude’s heartbeat was crashing in her ears like the Pacific ocean, her heart beating like she’d just leapt off of a cliff. Dean’s eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowing. Jude said his name again, voice softer than a whisper.

“I thought… I thought maybe. It was an option in my head, but it’s so hard for me to tell whether or not I’m seeing that something that’s there or if I’m projecting.” Dean’s voice sounded like he was on the verge of crying, and the breath was knocked out of Jude when he opened his eyes and there were tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I can’t tell the difference between a kid being a hunter or a kid being beat. For me, there was no difference.” He covered his face with his hands and Jude held her breath, scared to death for what was to come next. She was so tired of being scared. “Dad was… He did his best, I think. After Mom died, he kind of went crazy. We spent our time on the move, and I was watchin’ Sammy nonstop and then one day… One day Sammy ran away.

"That was the first time he hit me, but before that he was always telling me that I did somethin’ wrong. That I wasn’t cooking enough, that I wasn’t fast enough. That I wasn’t enough. I don’t want to be him, Jude. That’s why I left you with Desmond. I don’t want to become my father. I’m not good enough to be your father, plain and simple. It’s not you that I don’t want, it’s me. I don’t want me. I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to fuck you up because you’re only twelve and you’re so strong. You survived Djinn poisoning, woke up yester-damn-day, and you’re already hunting again.”

Jude jumped to her feet, surprising Dean. “That’s bullshit, Dean!” Her voice wavered, even though she was burning with anger. “You’ll never be your father! You’ve already treated me better than Desmond ever thought about treating me and you’ve abandoned me twice! I’d rather be here with you and have you ignore me every single fuckin’ day until I turn eighteen and you kick me out than spend another day with Desmond! The only thing keeping me from taking that stupid fuckin’ yellow Corolla and hightailing to New York or Florida is my damn brother.

"I don’t care who your father was, because you’re not him. I’m not Desmond, am I?” When Dean didn’t answer, Jude stomped her foot. She realized that they were both crying, silent tears on both of their cheeks. “Am I?”

“You’re so much better than Desmond, Jude.” He finally answered, face turned toward his lap. “You don’t understand, I’m not prepared to be a Dad-”

“-Nobody is, Dean!” Jude sobbed, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Dean’s eyes had snapped to her face when he heard her cry out. “I don’t think anybody would be prepared to raise another human, but you raised Sammy, didn’t you? He’s still alive. He’s a good person. I just want to live long enough to track down Lear and get as far away from Desmond as I can. Stop runnin’ from the truth just because you’re scared you’ll become your Dad.” Dean looked guilty, then, rising from his chair to pull Jude into a hug. She fell into it, wrapping her arms around his torso as she tried to keep from crying more.

“And if you did come stay? What would happen when you found Lear?”

Jude closed her eyes, holding her breath as she waited for the pain to pass. The situation was so familiar, yet so vastly different from what the Djinn had given her. It hurt to know that this would end very differently than her dream had ended, and that eventually Dean would leave her again - regardless if she was the one physically leaving or if he was the one walking out the door. “I would leave, of course. I won’t make you raise a child that’s not yours. I can take care of him.” Jude left the fact that he didn’t want to raise her, let alone a baby from another man, remain unspoken. Dean heaved in a heavy breath, dropping his head to rest his chin on the top of her head.

“The bunker isn’t really a place for young kids.”

“That’s why I said I’d leave.”

“What if I didn’t want you to leave?” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Jude could feel his arms shaking around her. More hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she shook her head.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Dean.”

“I mean it, Jude. Sammy, Cas, and I can help you track Lear down. You can both live here, you’ll be safe.” Jude shook her head, removing one arm to wipe her eyes. She left that arm tucked between her body and Dean’s. “I’m serious, Jude. You’re right. It’s time to stop runnin’.”

Jude, eyes wide and staring at a spot on the floor, nodded. She let herself feel hope, just for a second, and when Dean began crying into her hair she let it take over her body. They stood there, sobbing and hugging each other, for nearly ten minutes before Dean walked her back to her room. He smoothed the flyaway hairs from her bun back and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”


	9. “i’ve got a funny feeling, something that i’ve missed or misread. my feet are on the ceiling, running, but i can’t get ahead. i’ve got a funny feeling.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood, mention of death, described death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, in depth descriptions of guns and knives, religious overtones**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=ZjQ1YWVmNTEzOTcxYWMxNWRjNDE4MGZjODQ5OWFiZTI2Mzk2NmFjMSx0Z0hqaFdWaw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190739813345%2Fch9-ive-got-a-funny-feeling-something-that&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=YzUyY2VlZmRjMTA2MjQ3MTliYzJlYjE5YjUwMWU3M2E2NDgyOTI5Mix0Z0hqaFdWaw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190739813345%2Fch9-ive-got-a-funny-feeling-something-that&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -  
  


The next day Jude found herself slumped over the kitchen table, blearily cleaning her gun. She was the first awake, dressed comfortably but tactically. She had put her hair back up in the bun, hooked her holster around her waist, and tucked her knife into her boot. Jude was hoping that she would see Dean, Sam, or Castiel before she left but she also wanted to get to the hunt before three in the afternoon or something.

If she left after she finished cleaning her gun she’d roll into Branson around noon. That would give her enough time to case the town, find the grave, and prepare to dig it up;

Jude was almost done cleaning her gun - she had moved on to polishing the barrel - when Dean wandered into the kitchen. He looked as ready as she did, and when he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee she saw the telltale outline of a gun in a holster at the small of his back. She remembered that Sam said they were sitting out of hunts for awhile - so did Dean walk around his house strapped?

“Good morning.” She hesitated to say anything, but Dean sat down next to her and smiled into his coffee. It wasn’t one of those smiles where he seemed smug that he knew something more than she did, but a genuine smile that made him look younger and calm.

“Mornin’.” He nodded to the gun that she was polishing, “How’d you get your hands on that pistol? Looks familiar. Is that… Is that the gun from Miami Vice?” Jude snorted and nodded at Dean, moving to holster the gun and put the rag she was using back in her duffel bag. “It’s a nice gun.”

“Thanks,” Jude played with her hands, swinging her feet. It was awkward in the kitchen but she wasn’t sure if that was her feeling awkward or if that was the room filled with a weird tension. “It was my Nan’s gun, and my Mom gave it to me on the hunt before she kicked the bucket.” She busied herself with making sure she had everything for the hunt ready in her duffel - the one containing her clothing was already packed in her Corolla so it was rally just her weapons that she had to tuck away. “So, are you serious about last night? If you were I’ll… I’ll head back this way after the hunt.” Dean turned toward her, another serious look on his face as he held up a hand to stop her fidgeting.

“About that.” Dean paused and Jude did her best not to look dissapointed. Dean saw the look on her face and rushed to continue, “I know it’s an easy hunt, and I know you said you wanted to go solo, but what if I came with you?” He let the question hang in the air between them, and Jude’s eyebrows furrowed. She tried to process what he meant - did he not think that she could take care of the hunt? Or was he not comfortable with her going alone? “I’ll let you take the lead on everythin’, it’ll just make me feel more comfortable is someone is there with you. It doesn’t even have to be me, it can be Sammy or Cas.”

“Six to one, half dozen to another.” Jude shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind some company on the road, but I’m drivin’ my Corolla.” Dean’s face split into a grin and he slapped Jude on the back and she smiled, jolting with the impact. It was strange to her, how the impact stung her shoulder but she didn’t flinch. There was something about the casual nature of Dean as he moved that let her know he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“If you don’t care who it is, then I guess it’s bondin’ time, right?” He stood, abandoning his coffee on the table. “Give me ten minutes to pack my bags and let Sammy know I’m takin’ off, kid, and we’ll be on the road.” Jude couldn’t lie to herself; she was excited but weary. If this was another Djinn induced dream, she was fine to stay. She’d get years, they had told her. She was okay with that. She’d die inside the hallucination and everything would be better. Jude wondered if she’d go to heaven or hell when she died.

Dean met her by the trunk of the Corolla ten minutes later, a bag over his shoulder. Jude raised her eyebrows when she realized it was empty, but Dean only popped the trunk of the Impala and opened a secret compartment. Jude gasped, the glint of weapons catching her eye. She rounded around the trunk of her car, heading toward the Impala. “Holy fuck, dude.” She leaned over to look over the collection. It was extensive, and cool. It looked like thousands of dollars of weaponry, and Jude could feel the envy bubbling in her system. Dean grinned at her, looking over the guns and knives to choose what he needed. She felt like he just wanted to show off, but maybe Dean made a habit of being overprepared. IT was only a ghost, she thought, so why did he need anything besides a shotgun packed with salt rounds and a lighter?

“Most of it is family weapons, you know, passed down and things I got from my Dad’s truck after he died.” Dean shrugged and packed a few knives, a shotgun and a pistol, and then zipped the bag. Jude pressed her luck, leaning over and grabbing a gnarled, ancient looking knife. It was lighter than she expected and fit in her hand like a perfect match. “Careful with that.” Dean didn’t sound angry, which Jude would have expected. He sounded genuinely worried, and it confused her for a split second. She had obviously done something wrong - picking up the knife - but he wasn’t yelling?

Jude tried to roll with the unexpected, flipping the knife over in her hand and observing it. “What is it? I’ve never seen a knife like this before.”

“Knife that kills demons.” Jude looked up to Dean, eyes wide. She tried to keep her jaw from going slack. “No shit, kid. Got it off of a demon we knew once.” He took the knife from Jude gently, slipping it into the bag. He reached further into the Impala and grasped a smooth, silver stake. Dean presented it to her, and when Jude took it from him her whole body began to buzz. It was like a soft electrical current running from her toes to her ears. It made her feel powerful, but also scared. Jude looked down at it, running her fingers over the smoothness of the metal. It didn’t look like any knife that she had seen - in fact, it looked more like a handheld spear. “That’s an angel blade. Cas nabbed one for Sammy and I. It’s one of the only things that can gank an angel ‘sides another angel. I’m sure he could get one for you, if you want.”

“Awesome.” She breathed. Jude let Dean take the angel blade and slipped it into the bag, as well. He walked around Jude to the Corolla, setting his bag next to hers and shutting the trunk. They bumped into each other on the way to the driver’s side, but Jude smirked up at her father and held the keys just out of his reach. “I’m driving, remember?” He sighed and seemed to pretend to be exasperated, but Dean had a small smile on his face. They climbed into the Corolla, Jude setting up her phone in the vent holder, GPS and music already ready to go.

She backed her way out of the bunker and down to the road, starting the journey. Dean was fiddling with her phone, no doubt scouring her music and setting up a playlist for the four hour drive. Jude was surprised when she heard the modern alternative music, the same playlist she had chosen to not remind her of Dean, begin playing as he replaced her phone in the holder. She gave him a sideways glance, one eyebrow cocked as she slowed to a stop at a stop sign. “What?” He shrugged. “I can like modern music.”

“Just seemed like you’d be the type to have an axe to grind with this type'a shit, honestly. You’re all into that country and that classic stuff.” Jude shrugged, looking both ways before crossing the intersection. Dean shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable not being behind the wheel of a moving car. He made a noncommittal noise and then shrugged.

“Sam had this phase when he was a freshman, man. This was all he’d listen to, you know, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and shit. Hell, sometimes he’d make me listen to Flyleaf or Evanescence. Boy wouldn’t quit. After a few months, y'know, shit grows on you. It’s like a parasite.”

Jude snorted and shook her head, glancing at the GPS to make sure she had her turn right. “Can’t say I can see Sam listenin’ to it, either. He seems like he’d be a country boy, too. Or maybe Top Forty.”

“Sammy?” Dean grinned at her, shaking his head. “No way in hell. Sometimes I still catch him listenin’ to playlists he made when he was all angsty and teenager-y. He was 'bout your age, too, do I got that to look forward to?”

Something warm grew in Jude’s chest as she huffed a laugh out of her nose. “My angst is all hunter, Dean. I don’t have no highschool bullshit to deal with, just monster bullshit. That I can handle, mostly.”

“Ah,” Dean said, “Like father like daughter, right?”

She smiled as the conversation died down naturally - maybe the drive wouldn’t be as bad or awkward as she expected. Jude couldn’t hide how nervous she was. Her hands tapped on the steering wheel, and she slipped on sunglasses and ballcap when they passed the first cop. Dean only raised his eyebrows at her, but didn’t comment. His hands tapped out the beat to a Panic! At The Disco song on his thighs and they made small talk for most of the drive. It was nice, and they only stopped once or twice for food and for Dean to make a bathroom break. Jude tried to hold back a quip about his age, even though he surely would have riffed something snarky right back, because she wasn’t sure how thin of ice she was on with Dean.

Jude could only imagine that it was very, very thin. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was actually wading into the pond, soaking up to her knees.

The two arrived in Branson around noon with no fanfare. That was how Jude liked it, a nice silent entry to a case. She drove Dean past the house and it looked… Normal. It didn’t look at all like a place that had been the center of a paranormal happening. Jude and Dean watched a girl around Jude’s age kicking a soccer ball around in the front yard, a woman they assumed was the girl’s mother drinking tea and reading the newspaper on the porch. It, again, looked normal.

“Drive past,” Dean murmured under his breath, his head still turned toward the house. “Looks like the old man is pullin’ in and we don’t want to look too suspicious.” Jude turned a corner, watching a minivan pull into the driveway in her mirror. She took a moment to think it was odd that the girl didn’t run to the minivan, excited that her father returned home, but then again… Jude had realized that not everyone was close and cuddly with their parental units like she used to think non-hunters were. The TV shows were not correct.

“Pull 'round the block to this diner,” Dean instructed, pointing her to a quaint place, and she quickly put the Corolla in park. Dean sighed, and flipped through the manilla envelope that Desmond had given her, flipping through the info for the first time. “Wow, he didn’t give you a lot of information, did he?”

“Not really.” Jude shrugged at him, picking at the side of her thumb with her nails. She was finally in the town where the hunt was and her nerves began to pick up, jittering through her body. How was she going to figure out where that old cat-killing bastard was buried and then salt him? She was a damn teenager, and Desmond was right. She couldn’t pretend to be an FBI agent or a journalist or something. She was just a kid. “I guess I didn’t think taking this hunt through.” Jude confessed. Her throat felt tight, but Dean just gave her a reassuring smile after slipping the envelope underneath the front seat.

“It’s fine, we were all nervous on our first solo hunt.” Dean shrugged as if that was supposed to quell her nerves. “Let’s head to the graveyard instead of the house, see if we can find this douchebag there. I-” Dean sighed, and looked toward her. There was a disagreement happening behind his eyes, and it made Jude worried for a split second until he spoke again. “-I guess I shouldn’t say shit like that around you now, huh? I have to be all, like, adult and responsible.”

She made a face at him, wrinkling her nose. “Fuck that, man.” Jude laughed at the idea of Dean censoring himself just because she was in the car. It seemed very unlike him. “I don’t care if you cuss or not, really. I don’t think that censorin’ what you say makes a good… You know.” Dean sombered in a split-second, shifting to face her in the cab of the car.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was soft but commanded attention. He reached out to brush against her bicep with his fingertips, but pulled his hand back as he seemed to rethink the act of comfort. “It’s not a bad word, Jude. You can say 'Dad’.” Jude shifted uncomfortably, looking down to the center console of the Corolla. There was something about the word that felt bad to Jude. There was no reason for it to feel bad - besides the two times Dean had run out on her and the loss of the life she had been living after being poisoned by the Djinn.

“I know.” Jude bobbed her head, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “It’s weird for me, I think. I’ve spent so long saying Desmond, or correcting people that he’s not my Dad, he’s my stepfather that calling you Dad seems… I don’t know. It just seems.” She shrugged at Dean and he nodded like he understood. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. She wasn’t really sure what he understood and didn’t understand about her life anymore. Jude was also worried that he was going to be hurt, but he looked like he was at peace with the answer that she gave. Jude tried to soften the blow, offering him a small and timid smile. “I’ll get there, I think, if I spend more time with you.”

Dean smiled back at her, the corner of his eyes crinkling with the force of his grin. It aged him, but at the same time it made Jude think that she looked more and more like Dean the more that she thought about it. “Well, if we’re gettin’ you into the bunker semi-permanently then we’ll get to that point, I hope. Come on, kid, let’s see if we can gank this ghost without getting all up in that family’s life.”

They arrived at the graveyard just as the last stragglers from a burial were leaving, and Jude felt more than awkward. She almost felt a little ashamed. Dean shrugged and got out of the car, burying his hands in his dark blue, canvas jacket. “You get used to peering into other people’s lives, at some point. It sucks, but you do.” He said as he waited for Jude at the front of the car and she shrugged on a leather jacket and pulled a ball cap down over her eyes. Dean flicked the brim of it, and she looked up at him. He was smiling at her fondly, and it made Jude uncomfortable in the way that she didn’t really know that she deserves someone to look at her with kindness in their eyes like that.

“What’s with the hat, kid?” He cocked his head and returned his hand to deep in his pocket.

“It makes me look older.” Jude said. “When you’re thirteen and driving, anythin’ helps.”

The reminder that she had missed her birthday settled in her stomach heavily, and Jude smiled wryly at Dean as they began to make their way through. Dean was looking one row to her right, for the name of that cat-killer; after nearly an hour of combing through the names of the dead, they both came up empty. Jude was frustrated, settling herself onto one of the larger, more stable gravestones. She scowled at the ground, and it only deepened when Dean dropped to the ground next to her legs with a heavy sigh. His shoulder pressed to her calf and Jude did her best not to start. How long had it been since someone had touched her leg in a way that didn’t hurt? How long since a shoulder wasn’t slamming into her?

“I’m starting to think that Desmond sent you to a place that has nothing happening.” Dean finally said, looking off into the distance. Jude punched her fists deep into her pockets and sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry I wasted your time, Dean.” Her father snorted and leaned away from her to bump his shoulder against her calf. “Wasted a shit ton of gas, too.”

“I don’t think it’s wholly a waste of time.” He finally said, squinting and looking out across the field of concrete markers. “I wasn’t kiddin’ about bonding, kid. I don’t know where to go, or how to be a Dad, but I want to try.” Jude smiled, and would have replied if the wind hadn’t shifted, bringing the strong smell of sulfur toward them. Jude and Dean were on alert almost immediately, sitting up straighter and looking for the source of the smell.

Jude locked eyes with a woman about fifty feet but before she could even think about alerting Dean, the woman was in front of them. Her eyes were black and there was a sick smile on her face. It reminded Jude of the way that monsters smiled when they thought they were going to outsmart her - she figured this demon thought that she was hot shit.

“If you know what’s good for you, Winchesters, then you should leave this town.”

Dean got to his feet before Jude did, his gun pulled and aimed at… Nothing. The woman had disappeared the moment she had stopped talking, and the cogs in Jude’s head were turning. There was something familiar about that woman - it finally clicked and she dug her toes into the dirt, propelling herself toward the car. Dean grunted in surprise, and then his feet were pounding the dirt as he ran after her.

“What are you doing?” He yelled after her, catching up with Jude as she rounded around the front of the Corolla. She unlocked the car and yanked open the door, barely stopping to process what she was going to do once she got back to the house.

“That was that girl’s Mom!” Jude called to Dean as she slid into the driver’s seat. He barely had the door closed before Jude was gunning back to the house, kicking up gravel as she went. “That was a fuckin’ demon.” She growled. Dean gripped the oh-shit bar, bracing his legs against the floor of the car. He barely nodded, grunting as Jude flew around a corner just a little too fast. The house was in sight and they could see the minivan, sitting open and abandoned. She sucked in a breath, flying into the driveway. Jude parked next to the minivan, and then she was out of her car.

Jude and Dean arrived at the trunk of the Corolla at the same time, both almost immediately elbow deep in their duffel bags at the same time. They worked methodically, arming themselves.

Dean grabbed the knife that he proclaimed could kill demons and then he passed Jude a flask. “It’s holy water.” He explained when she cocked her head at him. She nodded and took her gun out of her holster, bracing her arms as she moved back out to the front of the car, toward the house. Jude made sure the safety was off and made her way to the porch as quickly and silently as possible. She heard Dean curse when he stopped by to check out the minivan, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if there was blood on the floor or something. It didn’t matter because Jude was already up on the porch, reaching out to shake the doorknob.

“Jude! Wait!” She looked behind her for only a second at Dean as he ran low to the ground toward the house, but then she heard the scream erupt from inside. Her heart began hammering in her chest, rattling her brain. “Jude, stop!” She kicked the door right next to the handle, her heavy boot easily knocking the lock out. The door bounced against the wall before Jude raised her gun and ventured into the house. Dean joined her shortly after, cursing under his breath. They worked together and cleared the sitting room and the kitchen before moving upstairs. Dean took the bathroom and Jude took the bedroom, kicking the locked door in with just as much ease as the front door. She started when the door slammed against the wall, revealing the source of the screaming.

The girl that Jude had seen earlier in the yard was on the ground, her mother standing above her with a foot on either side of the girl’s hips. The mother had a hard hand in the girl’s long, black hair and from where Jude was standing it looked painful. The girl was screaming, and the mother raised a hand to strike. Jude seethed and began to see red, putting the back of the woman’s neck in her pistol sights. “Hey, why didn’t you choose to play in traffic or somethin’?.”

The woman turned, her eyes flashing black, and Jude took several swift steps toward the woman. The gun she was aiming wouldn’t do shit to the demon except kill the vessel, but she hoped that walking toward the woman so brazely would be distracting.

Her hope that it would throw off the demon came to fruition, and it gave her the upper hand to toss some of the holy water directly into her face. The woman howled, dropping the girl, and that’s when Dean burst through the doorway. He called Jude’s name, haphazardly throwing the demon killing knife to her. Jude caught it by the handle, easily spinning out of the way of the demon as she tried to grab Jude, and then Jude lunged, baring her teeth like an animal.

She almost felt bad stabbing the girl’s mother while standing over the crying teenager, but the slide of the knife through the demon’s ribs was just a little too satisfying. The room shone with orange light as the woman lit up from the inside out, and Jude shoved her off to the side when it was over, her chest heaving. Dean rushed over and reached for her, but Jude had turned to the girl on the ground. The girl looked an awful lot like her mother with bright brown irises, her eyes wide with fear and her heart shaped lips parted and trembling. She was cute - Jude did feel bad thinking that after killing the girl’s mother.

Jude holstered her gun and reached out a hand to the girl. Jude clasped her hand and then hauled the girl to her feet, catching her when the taller girl stumbled into her arms. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m Jude, and this is Dean. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt. My name is Molly.” Her voice was hoarse, and Jude looked to Dean for some semblance of guidance as the girl clung to Jude. He shrugged, looking more lost than when she sat across from him in the booth, proclaiming herself as his daughter. “That wasn’t my Mom, was it? She was possessed, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean said, gently leading Jude - and by extension Molly - toward the stairs. “She was. I’m sorry, Molly.” Dean helped Jude heave Molly down the steps, eventually landing in the living room.

“My Dad’s a really famous pastor in town.” Molly admitted as she pulled away from Jude to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hands. “He’s super paranoid about demons. My Mom came home after she went to the store and he went ballistic. Then he took off. Do you know where my Dad is?” Jude couldn’t help but think that Molly looked marginally younger than she actually was - which was saying a lot because Mally was taller and lined witch muscles compared to Jude and it seemed like they were the same age.

“Sorry, Molly. We didn’t see him on the way in.” Dean looked genuinely sorry, but he sidled closer to Jude as if he was protecting her. "We’re gonna have to figure out a way to explain all of this, though..“ He gestured loosely upstairs. He grimaced, talking more to Jude than to Molly. The latter laughed, but it contained no mirth

"Not really.” She seemed to wrawp herself in her arms, looking rather sad and small. “He’ll think it was me, and then he’ll just convince his merry little band of fuckin’ sheep that it was me, too.” Her fists closed tight against her biceps. “So what? You two travel around and kill demons or somethin’? I know you’re not like, FBI or CIA because you’re young.” She nodded at Jude. “So what? You demon hunters? Or are you like the Ghostfacers?” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“We’re hunters.” Jude offered softly. “We hunt the monsters that people like you don’t see.” Molly smiled after a moment of inspecting Jude and Jude recognized the look. Molly’s arms flexed and a gentle breeze floated through the room, something at the edges of Jude’s chest fluttering. She cocked her head at Molly, who was looking just as strangely at her. Dean looked between both of them, opening his mouth to say something, when they heard the shouting from outside. It sounded frantic, horrified, and Jude’s spine stiffened. It was a horrific sound, like metal grating against metal but if that sound was coming from a human throat. Molly stiffened, too, and she looked horrified.

“That’s my Dad!” She cried, looking for all the world like she was two inches from death.

Dean took the lead outside, holstering his gun as he went. Jude was next, Molly keeping pace with the shorter girl. The girls stopped just before the porch steps while Dean jogged down them, a grin on his face like he was the neighbor man just checking on his next doors. Molly’s Dad was still screaming, stumbling with his hands clutching his hair. He looked like he went mad.

Dean approached him casually, though, with a hand extended. “Howdy, sir, I’m Dean with the Taney County Sheriff’s office. We were called out for a domestic-” He cut off with a yelp as Molly’s Dad lunged at him, looking like a feral wolf. Jude had to physically hold Molly back as the girl screamed, and while Jude was holding the thrashing girl she laid eyes on Molly’s Dad’s eyes as he fought with Dean.

They were black.

Jude gritted her teeth and managed to fling Molly back toward the front door. She turned to go help Dean fight off the demon, Molly on her heels. Molly’s Dad grinned, a wide and unhinged sort of grin, before he got Dean in a headlock. Terror seized at Jude’s heart - more terror than when she had first met the Wincehsters and Desmond almost died. Molly’s Dad bent backwards like he was going to suplex Dean and then, like they were never there in the first place, the fighting men disappeared in front of the girl’s eyes. The teens screamed at the same time, voices mirrors of terror and confusion.

“Dean!”

“Dad!”

The girls lunged forward at the same time, toppling down the stairs together. Jude landed hard on her knees, her jeans and skin ripping. She cried out and then stood, pushing Molly back by the shoulder. “Are you possessed too?” Jude demanded, pulling the flask from her pocket.

“What?” Molly exclaimed, eyes wide and hands up, “No!”

Jude splashed her with the holy water regardless and then dragged Molly back into the house. “We’re gonna talk inside before someone gets too curious about what the hollerin’ was about.” She kicked the door shut behind her, hand clasping her knife so hard her write had began to ache. “The fuck is your Dad on? How did a pastor get possessed the same day his damn wife did?”

“I don’t know! I swear, I was telling the truth. He’s always been uber religious - my Mom said something happened to him before she got pregnant with me and then he was suddenly all into God and shit. He was always talkin’ about how he saw an angel and shit in his sermons. There’s no way he’s possessed. I swear.” Molly was shaking and Jude almost felt bad - almost. Dean was missing after getting his ass kicked by a scrawny man wearing a wife-beater with what Jude thought was a gangster Tweety-Bird. There wasn’t much more that she could feel besides terrified and mildly amused.

“So then what the hell happened?” Jude demanded, trying not to brandish her knife at Molly. The girl was already traumatized from the events before the Dad showed up and Jude didn’t want to add to that, but she was so scared. She just wanted to find Dean.

“I don’t know,” Molly insisted, nearly begging Jude to believe her. “I didn’t do it, though, I swear.” Jude took a threatening step forward, then, raising her knife.

“The fuck you mean you didn’t do it?” She snarled, “I didn’t ask if you did it.”

“You’re like me,” Molly exclaimed, eyes wide. She held her hands up as if that would placate Jude. “I thought you might think I can teleport people, but I can’t. That’s not one of the things I can do.”

“What do you mean I’m like you?” Jude gritted out through clenched teeth, backing Molly up to the wall. Jude had some semblance of an idea what Molly was talking about, but she needed to hear it out loud. She didn’t want to assume because if Molly was just the kid of some tweaker preacher who happened to get possessed then she couldn’t be cleaning out her closet without collateral.

“You can do things, right? Things that normal people can’t do. I felt it when I flexed earlier - that’s one of my things. I can tell when people are like me. You felt it too, right? And I can track people, and- and- I see things sometimes, like predictions of the future. It always happens just before I wake up - I dreamed that you and your Dad came to save me when my Mom attacked me. It was still scary as fuck, but I knew it was gonna happen.”

“No, I’m not like you.” Jude grunted, trying to wrap her head around what Molly was saying, “I haven’t been able to pull out any of my ol’ party tricks in years. It goes away.” Molly shook her head wildly, taking a daring step toward Jude and her knife. Jude tensed, but didn’t lunge.

“No, see that’s what I thought, too. It turns out that my Dad was giving me this medicine. It was like someone was putting a bag over my head, and when I didn’t take them it was like I was seeing for the first time. When I was on them, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even feel the power that I feel below the surface. When the pills are out of my system, I can do everything that I was able to do before the medicine.” Molly’s cold fingers closed around Jude’s wrist, and startled the shorter girl so much that she dropped the knife. Her stomach clenched, feeling like it was bloating up into her throat. Everything clicked in her head like she was picking a good, complicated lock.

Pills… The sensation of seeing light… Jude remembered the times when she had missed her medication, the things that happened around her… The way that the feeling in her chest felt so familiar…

Jude stumbled back, and pulled her wrist from Molly’s grasp. Jude lost her breath and shook her head. “Oh, fuck.”

“Do you take pills, too?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jude gulped. Molly stumbled to a side table, pulling a blue pill bottle from the drawer. She fumbled with it for a second before presenting it to Jude. “Those are the pills that my Dad gives me. He won’t tell me or my Mom where he gets them, but he forces me to take them.” Molly searched deeper in the table, bringing out another bottle. It looked like it came from over the counter, and she presented it to Jude. Jude took the package and inspected it, and she tried to make heads and tails of the medicine. It was activated charcoal. “What’s this for?” Jude asked, trying not to sound too breathless.

“It sucks all the shit out of your stomach. It like, negates the effects of the pills. I’ve been takin’ them for about two months now and I’m back to gaining strength and endurance instead of running out of stamina.” Jude removed one of the pills, inspecting it in the light. It looked legit - just a capsule full of black powder. She debated on whether or not to trust Molly and figured that whatever it was wouldn’t kill her fast enough to prevent Jude from locating Dean. Jude dropped the pill in her mouth and swallowed it dry, but still kept her eye on Molly. “Do you know what we are? I haven’t figured that out yet, I’ve barely figured out how to control myself so that I don’t accidentally track someone halfway across the world or manipulate their temperature to something fatal.”

“Yeah, I have no idea, either.” Jude nodded once, tense and cast her eyes to the ground. “I ain’t been able to do anything for years but I reckon that I’ll be back and better before too long. You started to be able to do stuff at-”

Molly cut Jude off, like the teenager already knew what the angry girl was going to say. “-Six, right? I started having my dreams the day I turned six years old.”

Jude nodded, still pale. She ran a hand down her face and shook her head. “Fuck, I thought that I was just a freak. Damn.” Molly laughed mirthlessly, but agreed. “I have to find Dean. I can’t let anything happen to him. It’s like… He’s my responsibility. I can’t leave him with the wind, I gotta go for the full hog if I’m gonna try to find him.”

Molly shifted, foot to foot, before reaching out for Jude. At the last moment, Molly drew her hand back and tied up her hair. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and looked like she was mulling over her words. “I can’t do much if he’s too far away but do you have anythin’ of his? Like a shirt, or a gun? Something that’s his and he was somewhat attached to?” Jude bent to pick up her knife, sliding it back into the sheath in her boot while she was deliberating on whether or not to work with Molly to find Dean. She didn’t really see any other way, though, that was the problem. “Like I said, I can track him. I think if we find your Dad we’ll find my Dad. I don’t care if he’s possessed or if he’s treated me like shit, I should still at least try to find him.”

Jude hesitated and pulled the necklace she hadn’t taken off in years from underneath her shirt. “This was his. He gave it to my Mom, and then she gave it to me. You need me to take it off?” Molly shook her head.

“I don’t… I don’t want to fight if I don’t have to. I’ve never fought anyone before. I’m good at soccer and that’s about it.” Jude shook her head, turning on her heel to stomp out the front door. Molly was right behind her, stopping the shorter girl before the Corolla door could even open. “Hey, hey, stop. Hey, Jude! Stop. Just because I don’t want to fight doesn’t mean I won’t. I don’t’ have any weapons, though. How am I supposed to go into a fight with no weapons?”

“Luckily for you,” Jude muttered darkly, moving around Molly to pop the trunk, “We have 'em.” Jude shoved a shotgun from Dean’s bag into Molly’s hands, and the girl handled it like she knew her way around a gun. Jude raised her eyebrows but said nothing, slipping the angel blade into her jacket pocket. Hadn’t Molly just said she didn’t know how to fight? Jude brushed it off; she had her gun, her knife, the angel blade. She jerked her head towards the passenger seat and Molly climbed in, settling the gun on the floor below her seat, just out of sight enough that a cop wouldn’t see it unless he searched the vehicle. Jude took her place in the driver’s seat, jaw set. “So how do you track people? What do you have to do?”

“I assume it’s a lot like how you do what you do, Jude.” Molly raised one hand, palm toward Jude and the air between them began to vibrate like the air between guitars strings. Jude startled when the pendant of her necklace began to float up off of her chest, heating up. There was a buzzing in the back of Jude’s head, too, but that could have just been anxiety. “We should follow that as closely as we can.” Molly said, shifting in her seat to keep her eyes on the necklace. Her back was pressed against the door and her eyes were locked on the pendant. “They’re still in Branson, I think. It’s a strong signal.”

Jude reversed hastily, turning left to follow the general direction of the necklace. “That’s good. We don’t really have the time to be fuckin’ off to other states.” Jude followed her necklace from her lower peripherals, doing her best to speed but also not get pulled over. They ended up taking back roads out to the boondocks of Branson, passing several abandoned houses where it looked like squatters had taken up. It was when they drove past a rather large, half burnt shell of a house that Molly sat forward like a police alert dog. “What?” Jude asked, slamming on the breaks. “What’s up?”

“They’re in there.” Molly pointed, but not at the shell. She pointed at the cellar door several yards away from what was left of the house. Jude nodded and cut the wheel slamming on the gas. The Corolla lurched through the dead lawn, jerking to a stop in front of the cellar door. Jude and Molly met at the front of the Corolla. Molly cocked the shotgun and Jude readied her pistol; she settled one wrist on the other, her free hand clutching the angel blade. She took point, but Molly laid one hand on Jude’s shoulder. “I can feel your Dad,” Molly whispered, “Below us. Something’s wrong. It feels weird.”

Jude tried to reach out, tried to send a semblance of the feelers that she used to be able to send out, but nothing came. The charcoal hadn’t gone into effect yet and she cursed internally. “Are you ready, Molly?” The girls nodded at each other, and then Molly pulled open the cellar doors, Jude taking point like a military operative. Everything became darker the farther down they went, but eventually Jude’s boot hit dirt. She levelled out, sucking in a breath of musty air.

She squinted in the dark, and could hear soft struggling noises to her right, but she couldn’t see anything. “Molly,” She whispered over her shoulder, “Where are we going? You got anything on Cerebral Radio? Talk to me.”

Molly didn’t reply, and Jude whipped around to look for the girl. Before she could react, there was demon there, outlined in the little light that was pouring from the open cellar doors. His eyes were black and he was grinning. Jude felt the familiar sensation of demonic travel and then she was spit back out in a well lit warehouse. She stumbled to her scraped knees, but rose quickly with her gun and angel blade secured in her hand. Jude sucked in a breath and tried to keep her cool.

She was outnumbered - severely outnumbered on all sides. A door straight ahead of Jude opened, and Lear was thrust through. He was bound, gagged, and blindfolded and everything inside of Jude felt like it had been dunked in ice. She bared her teeth like a cornered animal and her eyes went impossibly wide. She tried to step forward, but the room was lined with demons all looking rather hungry for blood.

Desmond stepped through after Lear fell to the ground. With his arms spread wide and a grin on his face, he spoke, his loud voice booming and echoing around the warehouse. “Welcome, Jude, to your end. I’m glad you could make it.”


	10. “can i borrow your gun? i swear i’ll only use it once.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood & slight torture, mention of death, described death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, in depth descriptions of guns and knives, religious overtones**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=MTljZjBlNWMwODk5MmNmMTA2M2Q2ZjBlNmY0MWZiY2MxMDQwNmNjOCxZcjg2eXJLMw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190862482772%2Fch10-can-i-borrow-your-gun-i-swear-ill-only&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NmJjZjg1YmUxOGYwZDQwNDlmMGU2MTQwMjFhZGNiMzhjNmVkNjNjOSxZcjg2eXJLMw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190862482772%2Fch10-can-i-borrow-your-gun-i-swear-ill-only&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude aimed her pistol at Desmond, even when he tsked at her. There was something off about him but Jude couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t look meaner than usual, and he wasn’t treating her any different than usual - except for working with demons, apparently, and kidnapping three children. “What’s the deal, Desmond?” She cocked her head, “What the fuck is happenin’?”

“The hint was a ruse, Jude.” Desmond snarled, walking in a wide arc toward her. “You really are fucking stupid.” From thin air Molly appeared, stumbling to the floor. She looked up at Jude, but then at Desmond. Molly tried to scream, but Desmond’s hand came up and she stopped moving. Jude shuffled forward, her eyes hard and her gun still trained on her stepfather. Her trigger finger twitched.

“What are you doin’ to her? How in the sam hell are you doin’ it?” Jude demanded, doing her best to keep her voice steady. She looked at Molly out of the side of her eyes and began grinding her jaw. Molly still wasn’t moving, and it didn’t look like she was breathing, either. “Stop, Desmond, what the fuck are you doin’?” He snorted, and with his other hand he waved it toward the ground underneath Molly. Symbols appeared underneath her, looking strange but somehow familiar to Jude, and then Molly seemed to be able to move once more. She lunged toward Jude, but crashed into an invisible wall. The girls shared one moment of panic and eye contact before Desmond spoke again, drawing Jude’s attention and hard stare.

“We’re all gathered here today,” Desmond’s voice echoed off the high ceiling as he extended his arms for the most dramatic effect, “To witness the demise of two abominations. Two creatures that should not exist but defy all laws of God and have found a way to live.” The lights flickered and the ground below Jude shifted quickly. She fell off balance and tried to move past Desmond to Lear, but her stepfather shoved her by the shoulder to the hard ground. Jude stumbled but didn’t fall wholly. When she pushed back to her feet she noticed a circle, much like the one Molly was stuck in, surrounded her. It looked different, didn’t feel as familiar to her.

Jude clenched what felt like every muscle in her body and raised her gun toward Desmond again.

Then she heard someone scream through a gag, wild and desperate, and then two ignitions of flame. Heat flooded the room and she flinched, the ground titling once more. Jude turned around to find most of the demons gone and Desmond standing between Sam and Dean, who were tied to chairs; both men were bound to them and gagged. Jude’s breath caught in her throat when she saw Gabriel and Castiel behind them, both standing in rings of fire. Neither angels seemed to be able to speak. Desmond looked absolutely delighted at the look on Jude’s face as she processed what was happening.

“Isn’t this a treat? The last of the Winchesters, here together with all of their little pets.” He clapped once, and stepped between Sam and Dean until he was standing in front of his stepdaughter. Jude felt a sharp tug in her lower stomach, and then her weapons were skittering across the ground to Desmond’s feet, her hands grasping at nothing. her muscles tensed and she prepared to rush Desmond. He held up a hand, a sickening grin on his face. “I have been waiting for this moment for two Goddamn years.” Desmond bounced on his feet with his hands clasped in front of him. “Damn crossroads demon made me wait that long. Wouldn’t make it an instant thing.” Desmond sneered, rolling his eyes. “Such a shame that I own his ass now. Thomas said the same thing, it seems to be a running theme with the little low-life crossroad boys.”

Molly pressed forward, hands against an invisible wall. “Where is he?” She screamed, voice already hoarse and breaking. Jude could see tears rolling down the girl’s face. “Where’s my Dad?”

Desmond held up one finger, shaking his head at Molly. “Don’t worry, little girl, he’ll be here soon. He’s tying up some loose ends back at your place. Can’t have a missing person case open for you, now can we?” Jude clenched her jaw, trying not to cry as she took everything in. It was so overwhelming - Sam, Dean, Gabriel, and Castiel all trapped and unable to help her when she really needed it… Lear, crying and squirming in his bonds, the sound breaking Jude’s heart in the most pain she had ever felt… Molly, begging for her father…

Jude was going to kill Desmond if it was the last thing she ever did.

Desmond waved a hand at Molly, ignoring her crying. Jude took one measured step toward her stepfather, something tugging in her gut toward the ground. “Ah, ah, ah. I know you want to kill me, but you won’t be able to. Do you know what that is?” Desmond pointed to the circle she stood in, seemingly tracing the red circle in the air as he looked at it with seemingly fond eyes. “It’s called a Devil’s Trap, Sunny. Hunters use it to trap demons for long enough to exorcise them. If you’re possessed, you can’t get out of them. Try to get out, Sunny. Go on, come on. You wanna fight? Wanna hurt me? Wanna kill me? Let’s go.” Jude rushed Desmond - or tried to. She couldn’t make it out of the circle, crashing rather hard into a wall that she couldn’t see. Jude struggled against it, ramming against it with her shoulder like it was just a door. After nearly five minutes of struggling to get out, Jude stopped. She heaved in breath, her body already bruising. Jude didn’t meet Dean’s eyes, too afraid of what she would see there. Her stomach was tight, unease growing in her. Why couldn’t she get out? She clearly wasn’t possessed - the brand on her shoulder with the anti-possession symbol made that impossible. “It makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it, Sunny?”

She sucked in a breath, clenching her fists and unclenching them by her sides. She was helpless, trapped, and that was how Desmond liked it. He snapped his fingers, looking over his shoulder to where Lear was on the ground. A demon appeared behind Lear, dragging the boy toward Desmond. “Lear!” Jude could feel the desperation crawling through her body, mixing with every other emotion she was feeling - too many emotions. She pushed against the invisible wall again, her cries mixing with Molly’s.

“Shut the fuck up, Jude!” Desmond exploded, turning back to look at her. He looked enraged for a second but it quickly morphed into an unhinged grin. “He’s six, don’t you realize? He’s just like you.” Desmond pointed a fat finger in her direction and then snorted. “It’s okay, though. Wanna know why? It’s because your bitch of a mother is dead now, and she can’t teach him how to control them. That means he can’t be a good little half-breed, which means eventually some schmuck of a hunter like these two goons,” He gestured wildly back to Sam and Dean, both of whom were still struggling wildly against their bonds, “Will come along and kill him when he makes too much noise for the poor little humans to handle.”

“You won’t lay a finger on him, Desmond!” Jude’s voice echoed off the walls, and she pushed forward again. Come on, she thought, those stupid charcoal pills had to work at some point! Desmond shook his head and laughed again.

“No, like I just said, I won’t.” He walked closer to Jude, sneering. “But my time gloating is up.” He nodded. “See, like Molly’s father I made a deal. Like her Daddy, I changed. My time is up - well, it has been up. I’m a new man, Jude!” He spread his arms and Jude watched, dread filling her system, as his eyes filled with black. Desmond was a demon. It felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs with a hoover, her throat going dry. What had happened in the two days that Jude hadn’t seen Desmond that he’d end up possessed.

“That’s impossible.” Jude snarled, backing up until her back pressed against a wall that she knew that she wouldn’t see. “I’ve seen your anti-possession tattoo, Desmond.”

He shook his head, eyes returning to normal - filled with malice and mirth at the same time. “See, that’s where the deal I talked about comes in. After your bitch of a mother got hers, I sought out my own deal. The demon wouldn’t take less time than two years, so I had to take what I got. I moved past hound-chow, soldier, cross roads, and straight to the top. I’m not possessed, Sunny. I am a demon. I’m not just driving this meat husk, I am this meat husk.” He nodded and then snapped his fingers. Slowly, like someone was dragging a knife over the concrete, the circle Jude was trapped in was broken. It was just a little break in the paint, or the chalk or whatever it was, and Jude nearly toppled backward. Jude felt a shift then, and took off toward Desmond as fast as she could manage.

In a split second Desmond’s hand moved to cup at nothing, a snarl on his face. Jude was stopped short when she felt his hand close around her neck - but he wasn’t touching her. Jude was dragged up until she was struggling to breath, toes barely scraping the floor as her wrists clamped around a wrist that wasn’t actually there. Desmond held his hand in her direction, tucking the other behind him as he walked in a slow arc around where she was struggling. “I’ll tell you what I"m going to do today, girlie.” Jude’s vision began to slowly tunnel as she registered that the choking noises she heard were her, gasping for breath. “I want to kill you, I do. But I want to make it last. I want to hear you scream, I want you to beg me to stop.” Desmond grinned and Jude flailed, her legs kicking out as the hand squeezed tighter. She closed her eyes, and gasped when Desmond allowed her to breathe. “This not having a soul thing really made me realize how every single time I hit you I was just waiting. Just waiting for my resolve to break so I could end you the way I’ve always wanted to. Every monster I’ve ever killed I was thinking about killing you, you little bastard.

"So here’s what I’m going to do.” Desmond clenched his hand and tilted his head at her, eyes filling with black once more. “I’m going to roast your chickens, fry ‘em up nice and crispy. Then I’m gonna gut your Uncle. I’m gonna chop him up real nice, make you and your Pops watch. Think you’ll like that?” Jude made a strange squeaking noise as she tried to think of any way out of the situation she was in. Her eyes cut to Dean, who looked murderous. “Then I’ll give Lear a quick death. One shot to the head should do it, don’t you think?”

“I’ll kill you!” Jude threatened, her voice no more than a whisper. Fat tears began to roll down her red, swollen face and she began to struggle harder as Desmond threw his head back and laughed.

“Okay, you can think that. Anyway, after I’ve killed dear old Learie I’ll kill dear old Dad, too. Might take my time with him, might just kill him quickly. It depends on how eager I am to get things over with and to the main event. I’ll leave Molly for Thomas.” He flicked his wrist and dropped his arm, taking a deep breath. He looked calm, and that scared her.

Jude dropped to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching at her throat. Every muscle in her body felt weak, and he hands were shaking violently. Her vision swam, and the concrete below her seemed to rock like the floor of a boat. She wiped the saliva and mucus that was dribbling down her chin from her mouth with the back of her hand, suppressing a flinch when there was blood mixed in. “Don’t hurt them.” Jude looked up at Desmond, not getting up from the floor. “Why are you hurting them to hurt me? Just hurt me, Desmond. Torture me. Get it over with and kill me, but let them go. Dean doesn’t even want me, and neither does Sam. Castiel and Gabriel will get over it because they’ve been alive for longer than any of us. Lear will listen to you, just treat him right. Please.” Her throat burned and Jude let herself cry, voice and body shaking. “Just don’t hurt him.”

Desmond nodded, like he was considering it. He put his hands in his pockets, leisurely pacing in front of Jude. “Or,” He grinned and picked her gun up from the floor, holding it out to her by the barrel as he came to a stop in front of the crouched and slouching girl, “Or you kill yourself and save me the trouble and hard work, you know?” Jude stood, shakily pushing herself from her knees to her feet, and reached for the gun. Desmond jerked it back, laughing. Jude stumbled, and tried to ignore the shouting from Dean, muffled from the gag. He seemed to be protesting and her chest ached. Even Molly was shouting out, begging Desmond to stop. “I want to hear you say it, Sunny.” He whispered. “I want to hear you beg me to let you kill yourself.”

“Please.” Jude whispered, “Desmond, please.”

“No, loud enough for him to hear.” He jerked his head over his shoulder toward Dean, and Jude tried not to let her gaze wander over to her father. “I want him to hear you beg to die. I want him to hear you beg to give your life for his. I want him to live with that for the rest of his life. You had a good idea, girl, even better than mine. Make all these fucks live with your death on their hands? Even better than killing them.”

“Give me the gun, Desmond.” Jude’s voice came out stronger, even though she could barely stand. “I’ll do it. I’ll off myself to save them. You don’t touch any of 'em and I’ll put that gun to my head and pull the trigger.” Those damn charcoal pills didn’t seem to be working, and Jude briefly wondered why Molly didn’t do anything. Hadn’t she taken them plenty before Jude had? “Let me kill myself, I’m beggin’ you.”

Desmond let Jude take the gun, and she looked at it. It was heavy in her hands, her mind whirring. Could she really kill herself? Especially with a gun that meant so much to her - her grandmother’s gun. How mad would her Mom and Grandmother be if they saw her about to use the family gun to blow her brains out? Jude mind whirred, trying to figure out any way of the situation that she was in. “Desmond, why don’t I use your gun?” Her voice was small, shaking. He looked at her like she was crazy. “I’ve never shot it before, it’s been with you all day. If I would have tampered with a gun, wouldn’t it be this one? Wouldn’t it be stupid to let me use my own gun? Doesn’t it make more sense to give me your gun to kill myself with?” Dean screamed against his gag and Jude flinched.

“You’re not using my gun, girl.”

“What? I’m only going to shoot it once, and if I fuck up you can pop me another.” Jude shrugged, her hand falling limp to her side. Her gun pressed against her thigh, reminding her that she hadn’t found any way out of the warehouse, the situation, or how to save the people she cared about. It seemed like the only way to do all of those things was… Well, to actually shoot herself. “Then every time you use that gun and every time you see that gun you’ll remember what it did and who it killed.” She locked her gaze heavy on Desmond’s dark eyes. He considered it, walking around her in a wide arc once more. Jude let herself look at Dean, then, and his eyes were wide as he cried. Behind Dean she could see Gabriel and Castiel pacing in their confinements.

Desmond held his gun out to Jude after a few more moments of deliberation, and she set hers down at her feet. His gun was heavier, larger in her hands and it felt colder. She had never shot it before, but it wouldn’t be hard. Jude focused, feeling something in the room shift. It was like everything spun three hundred sixty degrees and then righted. Her heartbeat was rushing in her ears, blocking out the screaming that was happening in the room around her. It felt, almost, like she was alone as Jude pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple and closed her eyes. The barrel was cold against her sweaty temple and shook with her hand. Jude sucked in a deep breath when everything changed.

Power welled in her chest, knocking the breath out of her. Jude opened her eyes, flexing what felt like an underused metaphysical muscle in her chest as a shockwave rolled through the room, Jude at it’s epicenter. A lot of things happened at once, mostly at Jude’s will. The bonds holding everyone but Lear broke - the fire went out, Molly’s circle was wiped away, the ropes around her father and uncle’s wrists snapped clean in two leaving their hands free, and every demon in the room that was possessing a human was forcibly smoked out.

Jude opened her eyes in the moment that followed, the shock of the complete silence putting her into motion. She spun to face Desmond, who had been standing behind her, and pointed his gun at him. She didn’t bother to aim more than a general direction. Jude pulled the trigger aiming wildly and the gun kicked back more than she thought after she fired. It recoiled and slammed into her forehead, knocking her backward. She was already unsteady on her feet so it only took the recoil to knock her on her ass. Jude cursed loudly and looked up at Desmond. He had approached her, following her fall and collapsing on top of her. Jude had managed to shoot him in the forehead, blood trickling down his face but he was still alive, with a wild and angry fire in his eyes. Of course he was a demon - Jude wasn’t expecting him to die when she shot him - but she thought that it would at least slow him down.

But Jude had that familiar feeling, like blinders had been taking off. She pushed against Desmond’s face, growling as he fixed his hands around her throat and focused everything in her on destroying him. She wanted him to hurt, wanted him to feel like she had felt for those years since her mother died. Molly seemed to appear out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around Desmond’s back, her wide eyes locked on Jude’s. Molly’s warm hands moved to cover Jude’s cold, shaking ones and the power that Jude was feeling double as Molly’s surged through her body to Desmond.

Within seconds Desmond was glowing from the inside out, his eye sockets and mouth shining a sickly orange. Jude clenched her eyes, turning her eyes away from Desmond’s face. He collapsed when it was over, Jude struggling underneath his weight, and then his weight was gone. Molly had tossed the body to the side, stumbling back as she looked at it in horror.

Jude was jerked into Dean’s arms, the man holding onto her as if she were going to disappear. He was crying, clutching onto her as if she was on the brink of death. Jude wasn’t dying, but she was shaking pretty damn bad and felt like she was going to explode from the myriad of emotions she was feeling. Jude allowed herself a moment to be held by her father, to be a scared child, and then a lightbulb went off in her head. Lear was still bound and gagged somewhere behind her - scared and alone and probably wondering where she was.

Jude pushed away from Dean and clambered to her feet, knees shaking so bad they nearly left her on her ass again. Jude found Sam kneeling by the boy and pushing his hair back. For everything that had happened it seemed to Jude that Lear was physically unharmed. Mentally, though, Jude wasn’t so sure. He was crying, sitting on the ground and wiping his eyes as he looked up at Sam. Jude practically teleported to him - her world was such a spin cycle of confusion she wasn’t sure that she didn’t teleport - and pushed past Sam to scoop her brother into her arms. “Learie,” She gasped, crying again, “I’m so sorry.”

He seemed to register that it was his sister after tensing, and his arms wound around her neck. “Sun-ny!” He wailed, he dam breaking. Jude pulled back, sobbing, and smoothed his hair back from his head much like Sam had done. It was a horrible situation, but she couldn’t deny that it felt nice to see her brother again. “Sunny, you’re bleeding.” His bottom lip trembled.

“Moonbeam, it’s okay.” She nodded, smiling through the pain. Her whole body ached, and she was sure that she was covered in bruises. Jude was surprised that Lear didn’t look more scared as he looked at her, crying in her arms. Jude was sure that she looked like death warmed over. “I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re going to be okay. I promise, okay?” Jude nodded and Lear nodded with her, the siblings sharing a watery, shaky smile. Sam put his hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. Everyone had gathered around her - even Molly was crouching next to her, face blank. Jude reached out and took her hand, apologizing under her breath. Jude couldn’t apologize to anybody enough, she thought. She needed to find a way to make it up to them. “I’ll find somewhere for you to hide, Molly. Don’t worry about your Dad finding you.”

Molly nodded, still crying. “Thank you.”

Jude stood, heaving Lear into her arms. Dean pulled her back into his arms, enveloping both children in a tight hug. He kissed the top of Jude’s head, voice rasping softly in the nearly silent room. “Jude, we have to go back to the bunker. It’s not safe here, not with Molly’s father out there.” She nodded, shushing Lear softly as he sobbed. “Molly and Lear can come back with us, and we’ll discuss everything there, okay? You go with Cas and take Lear with you.” Dean kissed her forehead, wiping her tears with his large hands as he smiled softly as her. Then, to Jude’s surprise, he planted a kiss on the back of Lear’s head and ran his head across the boy’s head.

Castiel took Jude into his arms much like Dean had, uttering a warning to the young boy. Jude held Lear tight through the flight, and leaned into Castiel when they landed. She was still quaking, and couldn’t land on her feet on a good day. There was no way Jude would have managed to keep herself from toppling forward and landing on her brother. Castiel took Lear from Jude evn though she was weary about it, and then he pressed two fingers to his forehead. Jude panicked, reaching for her brother when he when he went limp. “Cassie!” She shrieked. Castiel turned and walked away from her, Jude on his heels as she panicked. Her world swam again.

“Hush, Fledgling.” Castiel laid Lear down on the couch in the library, his voice low and calm. He turned to Jude and put his hands on her shoulders, grounding her. “He’s fine. I merely put him to sleep, until Gabriel is able to, as he calls it, nuke the memories of this event. There is no reason a child should have to remember this ordeal. Am I correct to assume you would wish to keep yours?” His eyebrows rose and Jude had to remind herself that she was being asked a question, not being told. She was allowed to answer.

“Yes.” Jude nodded, tears brimming in her eyes once more. “Cas, what am I?” She fell against him, crying, and then Gabriel and Molly appeared in the library. Gabriel’s voice was tense when he called out for his brother.

“Castiel, there’s a problem.” He sounded tense, and Castiel immediately moved to talk to Gabriel.

Castiel left Jude teetering by the couch, until she sat down on the coffee table to watch Castiel take three or four steps to Gabriel and Molly. Molly looked as bad as Jude felt so the latter had to avert her eyes. She looked over her brother, looking like the child he was as he slept. “What is it, Gabriel?”

“This girl,” He gestured to Molly and paused, who caught Jude’s eyes. They were mirrors of each other: wide and scared and crying. Molly looked as weak as Jude felt, but it spurred the shorter girl into action. She paused, making sure that Lear was okay and covered him with a blanket before making her way toward the trio. She took a hearty breath and moved to wrap her arms around Molly. “This girl is a nephilim.” After Gabriel spoke, Jude was surprised she couldn’t hear Molly’s heartbeat. “Her mother was one of our siblings. Her father won’t tell Sam and Dean who, though.”

“What does that make me?” Jude spoke up, Molly’s head resting on her shoulder. “Desmond said that I was different than Molly. If she’s a nephilim, what does that make me?” She shook because she already knew the answer. Desmond had told her, had given it to her.

“You’re a nephilim, too, Weechester.” Gabriel sighed, looking down at her. She choked up, nodding, and Castiel set his heavy hand on her shoulder once more. “Just a different kind.” She nodded again, head almost nonstop bobbing, her fingers tightening on Molly’s shoulder. Jude wondered if she was hurting the taller girl, but Molly didn’t say anything, just shuddered into Jude’s shoulder.

“My Mom…” Jude’s voice was so soft she wondered if she was really speaking or not, “My Mom was a demon, then, or at least possessed by one.” Castiel and Gabriel were silent, and both of them looked toward the floor. Jude felt like she was going to buckle again, so she passed Molly’s shaking form to Gabriel and collapsed in the nearest chair. “Oh, God, that means I’m half demon.” She covered her face with her hands. Castiel took a seat next to her, struggling for something to say. Repulsion turned in her gut, brimming out of her eyes. “That means Lear is half demon. That means Desmond was right.” Her voice cracked off in the end, scared and angry that she ever had to say those words.

“No, that can’t be right.” Molly croaked from Gabriel’s side. She had moved away from Gabriel to sit on the floor. He sighed and disappeared, presumably to go fetch Dean and Sam. Molly shook her head, looking up to Castiel with something like determination shining in her eyes. “No, this can’t be right. They made us take the same pills, we both started being able to do things at six! If I’m half angel, and she’s half demon, that doesn’t make sense. If we’re so different, then why did they go down the same route to control us?”

“Think about it,” Jude replied, her hands slapping against her thighs, before Castiel could. “I exorcised like nine demons at one time. I destroyed the circle you were caught in. I untied Sam and Dean, and broke Cas and Gabriel out of those fire circles. Can you do that?” Jude sucked in a breath and cut her eyes toward her sleeping brother. “I can do a lot more than that. I have done a lot more than that before.”

“So have I,” Molly argued back, “I can do a lot more than you’ve seen me do.” Castiel held up a hand to stop before the two devolved into an argument on who could do more or who was what. When he spoke his voice was hard and clear, and it radiated power. Jude and Molly cowed to the authority he carried almost immediately.

“You will not argue about this.” He looked between them, and then settled his cold, icy eyes on Jude. “Nephilim are nephilim, whether or not they are brought forth via angel or demon. You must have forgotten - Lucifer was once an angel, and so were his followers. If your mother was an original host of heaven, then you would be just as powerful as Molly, not more. You both would be equals. This is not an argument you should be having. You should be worrying about your brother, who is going to present any time now. Am I correct?”

Jude felt rightly chastised, and she nodded, folding in on herself. She looked at Castiel’s shoes - still shiny even after all the shit he’d been through. They reminded her a lot of the angel, himself. “Yeah, Cassie. You’re right. I remember how hard it was for me when I first presented with this shit. I can’t imagine how hard this is gonna be on Learie.”

“I remember, too.” Molly agreed softly, her eyes cast down on her lap where she was playing with her fingers.. “It was awful, especially when Dad became an official pastor.” Jude struggled to breath, closing her eyes and furrowing her brows. “He thought I was a demon.”

“No,” Jude tried to make her voice light, a joke, but it fell flat into something like despair. “That’s me.” Castiel, next to her, sighed heavily.

“Gabriel is calling for me. He will bring Sam and Dean here, and then we will begin to clean up so that nothing comes of this battle pertaining to law enforcement.” He was gone before Jude could nod, and she made her way back to Lear’s sleeping form. Molly followed, and the girls sat next to each other on the coffee table pressed together and looking at the sleeping boy.

“He looks like you.” Molly whispered, the bunker silent except for her voice and Lear’s soft, even breathing.

“He looks like our Mom.” Jude’s smile was tight, and Molly pressed harder to her side. “I think we can hide you with some family friends. They’re really nice, they own a bar. If you want, that is. They’ve got an empty bed, anyway, one of 'em is off in Japan or something.” Jude felt Molly nod, and saw the girl playing with her hands out of her peripheral vision once more. “We should probably keep in contact, too. You know, stick together. I’m sure nephilim isn’t like, a big thing on Earth because of how Gabriel and Cas reacted. Desmond called us abominations, and if we are that’s even more of a reason to keep in touch.” Molly laughed, and finally they looked at each other, smiling at one another.

“Yeah, I’m sure demons and angels are shacking up with humans an awful lot, Jude. But I would like that. I’m not sure I can use my phone, anymore, though.” Molly looked away and bit her lip. “Pretty sure the guys are making sure it looks like me, my Mom, and my Dad are dead. Dead girls can’t make phone calls.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that. I probably won’t be able to, either. But if you go with Ellen and Jo, it won’t be hard to stay in contact. They own a legit business, can probably get you a new phone.” Jude looked back to her brother. “This is such fuckin’ bullshit.”

“Hear, hear.” Molly whispered. The room shivered - had it done that before when someone was about to pop in? - and then Gabriel was standing there with Sam and Dean. They both looked a little green. Jude didn’t get up to greet them, something unreadable in their eyes as she looked at her father and his brother. Gabriel made his way to her, settling a hand on her head, before kissing her forehead. She was beginning to get really tired of people doing that - she was thirteen for God’s Sake! It didn’t matter how loved it made her feel.

Gabriel smiled down at her as if he had heard her grumbling in her head. “Filled them in, Jude.” When he didn’t use his nickname for her, ice settled in her stomach. “I’m taking Molly to Ellen and Jo’s. They’ve already been filled in, too, and agreed to take her in. If you need me, just let me know.” He tapped her temple, “Got your frequency saved in my favorites on Angel Radio. Priority number one.” Gabriel reached past her, pressing his fingers against Lear’s forehead briefly.

Jude nodded mutely up at him and then he offered his hand to Molly. She took it, standing, but Jude caught her wrist. “Don’t be a stranger,” She said, lowly enough that she hoped her father and uncle wouldn’t hear, “I’m gonna need help with Lear.”

“Of course.” Molly said earnestly, wiping under her eyes.

Then they were gone, and it was just Jude with Sam and Dean. She was shaking like a leaf, especially when Sam gestured for her to follow. Dean still hadn’t said anything to her, had barely even looked at her since he was dropped back into the bunker, and bile threatened to rise in her throat. She followed them through the hallways until they settled in what she had come to know as the War Room. Yeah, that made her feel great. Dean and Sam sat across from her and Jude felt like she was staring down the firing squad. What would they do? She was a demon and they hunted things like her. Hell, she hunted things like her. Jude felt like the abomination that Desmond had called her.

God, if she shook any harder she’d start producing heat. Jude shook her head, and tied her hair back, waiting for one of them to talk. Eventually she decided neither was going to talk, and she spoke first. “I just need like, a week, okay?” The brothers looked surprised at the finality in her voice. “I can’t just up and leave and take Lear with me right now. I need time to find a place to hide. I need time to figure out what to tell him about what happened.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” Dean asked, leaning back in his chair and tapping his finger against the table. He shook his head, eyebrows raised as he tried to riddle out what she meant - or just get an answer from his daughter. Jude tried not to look toward Sam, because he sure hadn’t disagreed with her statement. In fact, he hadn’t said anything since the gag had come off of him.

“Well, nobody said anything about me staying!” Her throat tightened, Jude squeezing her fists for some semblance of balance. She tried to keep her voice level, but it was hard. “I’m a fuckin’ demon, guys. I can’t stay here.” Dean shook his head, knuckles rapping against harder the table as he shifted to lean forward in his seat to catch her gaze.

“The fact that you can get into this bunker in the first damn place means you’re not demon enough to just fuckin’ kick out, kid.” Sam, as well as Jude, looked shocked. Out of the two of them, she had expected Dean to be the one to tell her to hit the bricks - he hated creatures that weren’t human. And she was, you know, technically a creature that wasn’t human. “So what if your Mom was, you know, when…” He cut himself off and looked away to collect his cool for a second. “I don’t give a fuck. If you wanted to kill us, you would have done killed us.”

“I don’t want to kill you guys!” Jude exclaimed, “Honest! I just - I’m not human. I’m not good, not really. I guess I just got really good at pretendin’.” Both Dean and Sam looked affronted at her insinuation. “Look, you’re not going to offend me. Not after I learned this about myself. I’m not about to sit here and pretend that I didn’t kill Desmond, or that I’m not a fuckin’ offense to God him-damn-self.” Jude heaved in a breath, not even startling when Castiel appeared between Sam and Dean. She had felt the room shiver just before she saw him appear. “Maybe I really did deserve everything Desmond did to me.” Her gaze snapped from the table where she was staring to Dean as he stood up, his chair crashing to the ground behind him. He looked enraged again, like when he had been watching Desmond choke her. Fear spiked down Jude’s spine and she tried to smother it - there was no reason to be afraid of Dean, not really.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Jude.” Castiel grabbed Dean’s wrist gently, saying his name low in warning. “No, Cas, she has to hear this.” Castiel nodded, his fingers trailing against Dean’s skin as the other man pulled away. Dean’s gaze rounded on Jude, then, but she didn’t startle. He looked passionate, but at the same time he looked incredibly sad. He wasn’t going to hurt her. “You didn’t ask to be born like this, did you?” Jude shook her head. “You were born like this. Your Mom made a decision, and you’re shouldering the consequences. That may suck, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you deserve the shit that motherfucker put you through, understand me?” His jaw locked and his eyes never left Jude. She felt herself beginning to cry, chewing on her lip in shame. “You’re a nephilim, so what? You’re half demon, so what?

"That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve dedicated your life to protectin’ people. You’ve spent your life protecting your younger brother. Doesn’t that mean anything? I’ll bet if I walked in there when Lear woke up and asked if he’d ever been hit, he’d say no. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Jude’s voice was soft and watery.

“Why? How come Desmond hit you, but never hit Lear?” Dean set his jaw, like he already knew the answer. Jude supposed he did.

“I took the hits. Whenever the three of us were together, I took his beatings. He had to watch, but I never let Desmond hit him.”

Dean leaned against the table, shoulders tense as he gazed at Jude. She held his gaze, mostly because she had never seen someone look at her like that. He looked soft, and he was crying, too. Jude’s eyes flickered towards Castiel and Sam but they had left the room during Dean’s outburst - Jude hadn’t even noticed. Dean turned her to face him again. “Hey, look at me. Listen to me. You may be half human and half demon, but that has no bearing on who you are. You are not your mother, you are not Desmond, you are not Lear. You are Jude, and you have chosen to be good.

"You were being abused, Jude. That doesn’t make you bad, or dirty, or less than. You survived, and you protected Lear. I wish that I had someone to tell me this shit when I was your age, honestly. You did what you had to do to survive, and that doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Dean looked down to compose himself, tears shaking loose from his eyelashes and splashing on the table. “I can’t watch you feel the same way that I felt. It almost killed me - hell, it did. I thought that I wasn’t worth shit and I sold my soul to protect Sammy. Cas pulled me out, but still. I can’t let you get to the point where you value someone else’s life over your own.”

Jude wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, sniffling through a clogged nose. “But I’d do the same thing for Lear.” She said, voice stuffy. Dean nodded, a small smile playing on his face as he walked around the table to Jude. “He’s got so much more to live for than me even if he’s a nephilim, too.”

Dean pulled her into a hug, setting his chin on her shoulder. Jude sighed, and let herself be held. It was easier than holding herself together - she’d have to do enough of that in the coming days because if Desmond was right and Lear was presenting? She’d have to teach him everything she knew while flexing the muscles she hadn’t used for years. “That’s what I thought too, Jude. We are so much more alike than you realize, kid. Sometimes the best thing you can do for the people you want to protect is love yourself. It’s the most damning thing you can do to the people who hurt you, too.”

“Love them?” Jude questioned.

“No.” Dean chuckled throatily, rubbing her back in slow circles. “Lovin’ yourself.”

“Oh.” She said. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and she was getting sleepy where she was leaned against Dean. It was nice, she thought, to be held. Nobody had done it to comfort her since her mother died. Dean was warm, and he held her like she was made of precious glass or something. Perhaps she shouldn’t admit that she needed to be held like a child when she was thirteen years old, but she had a long day. She didn’t really care, honestly. She did need to be held. “I guess.”

“So no, I don’t want you to leave. Sammy doesn’t either, and I’m positive Cas wants you to stay. You and Lear. I won’t make you give him up again, kid, I know where you’re coming from. I’d be lost without Sammy.” He released her from the hug, but just smoothed her hair back once more. It seemed that was the way he was comfortable with showing affection, and Jude didn’t really care. “You look like you have a question for me.”

The words fell from Jude’s mouth before she could contain them. “Why are you doing all of this for me? For Lear? It’s my fault you were kidnapped - Sam, Cas, and Gabriel, too - and I dragged Molly into this, too. She’s just a kid!”

“You’re just a kid, too.” Dean reminded her, his eyes soft and sad. “And as for why? Kid, I thought it was obvious. You’re my daughter, Jude. I know I haven’t been the best Dad, but I’d like to think I’m better than that son of a bitch.” Jude hiccuped, nodding as she began to cry harder. “We’ll get through this like me and Sammy got through all the shit our Dad put us through. We’re Winchesters, kid, it’s sorta what we do. We get through shit.”

Jude smiled then, and Dean wiped her tears off of her cheek. “How are we gonna figure this out? In the past three weeks my life has gone to hell in a handbasket.” Dean laughed outright, then and leaned back from Jude.

“That’s what it means to be a Winchester, kid. Everything goes to hell, sometimes literally,” Dean paused to pull his sleeve up to reveal the handprint that was burned there. “And then we fix it. Sometimes we have a little help from our friends, but still.” He shrugged and Jude smiled, like she knew a secret. It was nice to be able to give Dean that look for once, because he’d been giving it to her since they had met. She raised one eyebrow and cut her eyes toward the door that Castiel and Sam had exited out of.

“Friends, huh?” She teased him easily, nailing him in the shin with her boot. He flushed, and grunted as he moved his hands down as if to grab his leg.

“Damn! That hurt. And yes, friends. Cas and I are friends.” Jude’s other eyebrow joined the first at her hairline, face splitting in a grin as she won the game she hadn’t known she was playing.

“See, I didn’t even mention Cas’ name!” She laughed, and then groaned. Her whole body hurt - was it because her day had been awful and she had come away covered in bruises or because she hadn’t gone an extended period of time without her medication in years? And, on top of that, the medication had been forcibly removed via an activated charcoal pill. (That felt so far away, Jude realized. It felt like days had passed.) “Got you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, pulling Jude to her feet. “You’ve had a rough day. Rougher than most, I’d assume. Let’s get you to bed.” He stopped into let Castiel and Sam know that the four of them would discuss more in the morning and then led Jude back to her room. Everything was where she had left it - her bag of clothes and her journals. Dean sat down next to her on the bed and was mostly silent as she toed her boots off and worked her way out of her leather jacket and the hoodie she was wearing underneath it. Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. He pressed a kiss to her temple, sighing heavily. “I know you’re still gonna feel guilty, but try not to. None of this was your fault. Like you said to me once: you got dealt your cards and now you’re playin’ 'em. Just like everyone else in this fucked up world.” He stood and made his way to the doorway, taking a second to look back at Jude. “Get some sleep, kid. I’m sure Cas’ll wanna give you the fourth degree in the morning about all of this.”

Jude, just before the door shut behind him, finally mustered up all of the courage she’d ever needed and held tight to it. She swallowed thickly and then spoke just before the door clicked shut, hoping her voice would carry enough that he would hear her.

“Goodnight, Dad.”


	11. "northern downpour sends its love; hey moon, please forget to fall down."

**content warnings: mention of death, described death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, slight warped reality**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=YmRkYzYxYjk2MmEwMTU4OTU3NzQxOGY1NjY4NDQyYTM5NzRmODM2MywzYU5HR1ZCYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190986667441%2Fch11-northern-downpour-sends-its-love-hey-moon&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NDAyYzU5MTFkM2U2YTc0MmI5Yjk5NGQ1MzA3ZjFjNDMzMGQwYTBkMCwzYU5HR1ZCYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190986667441%2Fch11-northern-downpour-sends-its-love-hey-moon&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -  
  


Jude slept in a limbo state. It was the best and worst sleep she had ever gotten. She was plagued by nightmares that she couldn’t remember and dreams that left her waking up with hot tears on her face. The final time Jude woke up was with cortisol pushing her to her feet, her brain barely registering that the terrified, raw screaming she was hearing was her brother, Lear, from the other room.

She didn’t care she was only in flannel pants and a tank top, or that her ponytail was hanging loose at her neck. Jude flew from her room and down the halls of the bunker, heart hammering faster than her feet slapped against the floor. She found Lear screaming at Sam in the library, books swirling wildly around them. Both were crying, but Sam’s tears were probably from an injury from the flying books rather than mind-numbing terror.

Dean reached the door at the same time that Jude did except he stopped short, eyes wide as his breath caught in his throat. Jude threw herself into the middle of the room, calling Lear’s name in a panicked voice. If that was the first time he’d made something happen, he’d be scared. He’d be terrified because of that pull deep in his chest, the way his head would be spinning. Jude called his name again and realized that it probably didn’t help that Sam towered over Jude and Dean. Of course Lear would be scared. The man was a giant compared to the boy.

The first book to hit Jude as she shuffled closer to her brother nearly knocked her out, and the second hit her in the neck and left her gasping for air. She clutched at the bruises on her skin and cleared her throat to speak. “Lear, stop!” When he didn’t stop, didn’t even look at her, she mustered up a scream and threw her hands out to the side. Like an underused muscle her abilities flexed, but still worked. The books stopped swirling and hung in the air like they were tied to fishing line and attached to the ceiling. They swayed, but only gently. Jude called his name again through gritted teeth, her face tight as she focused on not wreaking mayhem, but Lear still wasn’t responding. He wasn’t breathing either. Jude dropped her arms, not even flinching when all of the books crashed to the ground.

She took a step forward and her only thought to get to Lear as fast as she could. It consumed her very being, making her feel dizzy and light. As Jude stepped forward her foot seemingly slipped through the floor and all at once it felt like Jude was falling. She didn’t have time to scream because then there was a sharp and painful tug from her back, between her shoulder blades. It jerked her whole body upward, and then her feet hit solid ground once more.

Jude found herself behind Lear, falling forward. She wrapped him in her arms, and fell to her knees.. Jude gasped, her knees smarting as Lear struggled against her. “Lear, stop! Moonbeam, it’s me. It’s Jude, it’s Sunny! It’s Sunshine!” She turned him in her arms, and then he finally processed that it was her. “It’s okay, you can calm down. I’m right here. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Sunny,” His lip wobbled as he gazed up at her with watery, “Sunny, I feel weird. I’m scared, I don’t know who these people are.”

Jude nodded, smoothing his sweaty hair back as she tried to smile at him. “Sh, it’s okay. I know, I’m gonna show you how to not feel weird, okay? Mom did that for me, and I’m gonna do it for you. But you don’t have to be afraid of these men, okay? They’re not like Desmond.” Lear curled further into her chest, looking back at Sam. He was backed against a table, hand held against a swollen eye that would surely bruise. “That’s Sam. He’s super tall, but super cool. He’s my Uncle.” She turned Lear to face Dean, who was still standing unsure in the doorway, chest heaving. She pointed at him, hugging Lear to her chest. “That’s Dean. He’s also really cool, and he drives a super cool car. I bet you would really like it. He’s my Dad.”

Lear twisted to look at her, eyes wide. “He’s the one you wrote about?” His voice was a whisper but, like all six year old boys he didn’t know how to whisper. Not really. Jude smiled and nodded, kissing his temple. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Jude pulled him closer, lifting him off the ground and into her arms. She sat back on her feet and smiled down at Lear. “It’s okay, Learie. I know you didn’t mean it. How about we apologize to Sammy, and to Dean, and then we get you into a real bed? I’ll even tuck you in like I used to.” Lear’s face lit up and he nodded, running one of his fingers over the scar that lay on the front of her shoulder. The tears on his face were drying and Jude nearly tripped over her feet as she stood. She wasn’t used to carrying her brother again - he’d grown since the last time she’d seen him for an extended time. Jude was also… Self conscious? Was that the word? Whatever, she was nervous about Sam or Dean seeing the brand on her shoulder.

She walked Lear over to Sam, the child looking smaller and more shy with every step she took toward the man. He apologized to Sam who took it graciously and shook Lear’s small hand. Jude also apologized when she saw the bruise beginning to bloom over Sam’s jaw. Then Lear apologized to Dean. Dean’s eyes followed Jude as she carried Lear out of the library after the apology. Lear didn’t have a room, but he’d sleep much better after an event like that in her bed anyway. Besides, he always ended up crawling into bed with her at night anyways.

Jude settled him into her bed with the door firmly shut, forming a little nest of blankets around him. She curled up next to him on top of the covers, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Want me to sing, Moonbeam?” He nodded, one hand curling out of the covers to lock hers in a vice grip. Jude’s fingers began to smart, but she didn’t care.

Jude smiled, something like bright white happiness filling her chest. She began to sing, voice tripping over the words that were familiar, but nearly lost to time. She did her best to keep her voice down, so Sam and Dean didn’t realize she was singing. She would have been mortified if they had entered to find out what that noise was. “When you’re weary… ‘Nd feelin’ small… When tears are in your eyes… I will dry them all… I’m on your side…” She continued to sing in a low, throaty voice, and eventually Lear drifted off to sleep. He still had a death grip on her hand and, honestly, Jude wasn’t really keen on moving even though she knew Sam and Dean were waiting for her to come back out.

It was nearly a half an hour later when Dean came knocking. Jude was nearly asleep and almost didn’t respond, but he knocked again. She sighed through her nose and waved her hand through the air. The door unlocked, and then creaked open. “Jude?” She did her best to look at him, but Lear was still clutching her hand. She smiled sheepishly at her father. “Oh, hey, we thought you had fallen asleep. I was just coming to check.” He seemed genuinely surprised, and Jude felt a little bad.

“I was almost asleep,” She confessed. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back out, he’s not really taking anything well. Gabriel nuked his memories from being… Well, kidnapped, but other than that he’s pretty freaked out. It’s all so scary when this shit first starts happening.” Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and faced away from, his head down. “What time is it?” Jude tried to bring the mood of the room up while still being quiet enough that Lear stayed asleep.

“It’s just past three in the mornin’.” Dean rumbled and then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. Sammy was just tryin’ to take Lear to a room so he could sleep on a bed 'stead of on couch. I just came to check on you, see how you were holding up. That was a pretty scary thing that happened back there.” Jude could see the tenseness that kept Dean’s shoulders in a straight line, the way that his leg was shaking.

Jude managed to shift to her other side, one arm crooked behind her so that Lear could still hold her hand. Dean looked over his shoulder and gave her a small smile, but he looked so incredibly sad. “It happened to me, too, when I was his age. It’s like walking after months in a wheelchair - pretty easy to do, but still needs some practicing. I’m sorry if he scared you. He’ll have a sharp learnin’ curve, though. I’m sorry if I scared you when I… You know, when I did that.”

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “It didn’t scare me. Not with Cas bein’ around. I’m a lot more used to freaky shit happening when someone throws their hand out.” Jude snorted out of her nose and he shook his head. “I was just checkin’ on you, kid, makin’ sure you weren’t scared when I could do something about it. Can’t do much, but I can make sure you’re not scared.”

Jude reached out and pulled at Dean’s elbow until she could slide her hand into his. “No, not scared. Tired as fuck? Yeah. Get some sleep, Dad.” He grinned at her, nodding. Dean left the door open when he exited her room, and with a wave of Jude’s hand it was pushed shut. She managed to wiggle underneath the covers and pulled Lear closer to her. She would have died for that kid, but for that night in particular she was going to get some sleep so that she could help him control himself.

Jude fell asleep - and then she fell into a dreamscape that seemed too real to be just something her brain made up. She woke on a beach, the water lapping at her legs as she was sprawled on the sand. Jude groaned, and pushed herself up. Her body didn’t ache anymore, and when she looked down she wasn’t covered in bruises like when she fell asleep. Jude immediately recognized where she was. It was a beach on the West coast that her mother had taken to once to practice. Jude stood and turned, looking for her mother. It was a dream, she knew that, so her mother should have been there. Jude, herself, was in swim trunks and a tank top - it was familiar. That’s what she had worn that week they spent everyday on the beach, basking in the Californian sun. It was like she was back on the beach, except older. It was nice.

“Mom?” Jude began walking the beach, the waves muffled in her ears. She was focused on finding her mother. Even if it was just a dream, she wanted to see the woman again. On the beach in front of Jude there as an outcropping of rocks and if she squinted she could see someone standing on the other side. Jude’s heart hammered - if she could see her mother, even in a dream, it would be worth it. Jude began to run, slipping in the slick sand but making it around the rocks nonetheless. Her mother was there, wearing a familiar outfit. It wasn’t the outfit that the woman had died in, but the one that Jude saw her in the most. She was wearing thick boots, boot cut jeans covered in grease, and then a long sleeve shirt.

Her hair shone in the dying sunlight of the day. Jude stepped forward, something blooming in her chest. “Mom.” Her mother turned, the familiar smile on the woman’s face. She didn’t move - and Jude could see Dean’s necklace around her neck. It was jarring. “I’ve missed you.” Jude rushed into her Mom’s arms, and they held each other for a few minutes.

“Oh, honey,” Her Mom’s voice was what Jude imagined whiskey would taste like. It was soft and smooth, but it hurt, too. “I miss you too, Sunshine.” Eleanor, Jude’s mother, pulled back but kept her arms around her daughter. “I can’t stay long, but I want to know about everything. How is Lear? How is Desmond? Have you found your father? God, you’ve gotten so big.”

Jude’s chest tightened, her eyebrows raising to meet her hairline. She led Eleanor to the rocks and sat down next to her mother, shaking her head. She couldn’t find words, but had to. “Desmond’s dead,” Jude finally confessed. She wasn’t ready, dream or not, to confess what she had learned, “But Lear and I are living with the Winchesters now.”

Eleanor visibly relaxed and the age drained from her face as she smiled. To Jude, it was brighter than the sun. “Good, I’m so glad you’ve found him. I was so worried, Sunshine.” Eleanor caressed Jude’s face, and the young girl leaned into the touch. “I wish I was still there with you, but I don’t regret my decision.”

“Mom,” Jude finally found her voice again, locking eyes with her mother. “Mom, did you know? About all of this? Why didn’t you tell me?” Eleanor sighed and nodded, looking down to her lap. Jude had never seen her mother look… So ashamed. In fact, she had never really seen her mother look anything but energized after a hunt. It made her think that she didn’t really know Eleanor.

“I knew that this would happen. Have you stopped taking your medicine?” Jude nodded. “I was possessed, but the demon was in the backseat for most of my life - and most of my pregnancy. I didn’t know, Jude, that you would be a nephilim. Not until it smoked out of me after I got stuck in a Devil’s Trap. I realized I had been possessed for a very long time after that.

"Then, when you turned six months old, a demon showed up in the motel room we were staying in. I begged him not to feed him your blood - but I was helpless.” Eleanor choked up. She was crying, and it shook Jude to her core. Her mother never cried, not even when she was being ripped apart by hellhounds. “He must have realized what you were - ingesting demon blood would have made you so much more powerful and that much more dangerous. It would have been like arming a nuclear weapon and then handing it to a toddler.

"So I made a deal.” Jude’s mother steeled herself, looking out over the sea. “I made a deal with him. My soul for anything that could negate the effects of my possession.” Eleanor looked back to Jude, pressing their foreheads together. “I got ten amazing years with you, Jude. I got four amazing years with your brother. I got five so-so years with Desmond, and one night with Dean. I’m happy with the life I had before I died. It was everything I had ever wanted.” Jude sniffled, wiping under her nose with her sleeve as she nodded at her mother. “And I didn’t have to worry about Lear presenting because Desmond would have enough medicine for the both of you. I don’t regret the deal. Though, I suppose it’s off now that Desmond is dead.” Eleanor shrugged.

“I miss you so much, Mom.” Jude had a strange feeling, like she had unlocked a secret that nobody else knew. A secret her mother had given her in death. “We found another nephilim, but she’s half angel. She lives with Jo and Ellen, now.” Eleanor, with a twinkle in her eye, lowered her voice and looked at her daughter with raised eyebrows.

“Is she cute?” Eleanor’s voice pitched down suggestively.

Fire crawled up Jude’s skin, a blush furiously coloring her red. “Mom!” They shared a laugh, before Jude finally conceded. “Yes, she is. We’re both nephilim but different. I’m sure she’s not even… You know.” Eleanor nodded, as if she understood wholly. “Mom, it’s so hard. I miss you so much, and I’m so worried about living with Dean and Sam. What if I fuck up Lear’s life? What if I can’t teach him to control himself like you taught me?” Eleanor smoothed Jude’s hair back, bringing tears to the teenager’s eyes, and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I can’t show him that I’m scared.”

Eleanor didn’t even have to ask Jude who she meant, it was like the woman just knew. “Sunshine, if you can show anyone that you’re scared it is Dean Winchester. And you’ll be fine teaching Lear. I knew that one day you would have to, and I prepared you for this. I gave you the tools, honey.” Much like Dean had pulled Jude into his side, Eleanor did the same. “I wish that I could have given you another life, Jude, but I gave you the best I could. I love you so much, my Bridge.” Eleanor kissed Jude’s temple, and then looked back over the water again. “I must go now,” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I’ll visit your brother in seven years. Don’t tell him, I want it to be a surprise.” Her eyes sparkled and they both stood, sharing one last hug.

“I miss you, Mom.” Jude’s voice cracked as she held onto her mother. “I miss you so much. I love you.” She was crying against her mother’s chest when it happened. Eleanor began to fade, like a fade to black effect on a video editing program. Jude watched, still crying, as her mother disappeared again. Eventually Jude’s arms collapsed, and she fell to her knees hugging herself. Her chest ached, but in some way she felt better. It felt like she was really talking to her Mom even though Jude knew, she knew in the deepest recesses of her brain, that her mother was in Hell. That’s where people who made deals with demons went.

Jude cried on the beach for what felt like hours. Her forehead pressed against the sand as she held herself together, doing her best to breathe through the panic and pain. Eventually the tide came in, washing around her until something changed. The water began to rise rapidly, covering Jude in the freezing ocean. She didn’t move and eventually her body was swept away into the current. Jude felt weightless, like something had clicked inside of her once more. She didn’t feel panicked, or like she was going to drown. In fact, Jude felt like she was finally in the place that she belonged. She was tired of feeling more comfortable the stranger her life became, and she was tired of losing people and then gaining people and then losing them again. Jude, she presumed, was just tired of being alive. She let herself float, opening her eyes as she fell deeper and deeper into the ocean.

Eventually, she fell so deep she felt the ocean floor against her back. It felt so soft, so familiar - Jude blinked once, slowly and languidly, and then she was in bed at the bunker. Lear was asleep next to her, but shifting in the way that he had since he was a baby. He was about to wake up.

Jude looked over, catching sight of the clock on the nightstand. It was just after six in the morning, and yet Jude felt fully rested. She sighed, turning her gaze back to the ceiling. She’d lay, she decided, until Lear woke up and then she’d go make breakfast for the bunker. It was the least she could do. A shot of guilt hit Jude hard, then, because she realized that Sam and Dean must have had to stay up and clean the library. “Fuck.” She breathed, shaking her head. She pulled away from Lear, finding a change of clothing and changing quickly. She sat cross legged on the floor and began to brush her hair out, hissing when she tugged through a particularly nasty knot or something like that, and waited for Lear to wake up. If he woke up and she wasn’t there, she was afraid that he’d have another breakdown.

Jude pulled her hair over her shoulder and leaned back against the wall, listening for movement from the other rooms in the bunker. Her mind began to wander - did Castiel and Gabriel need to eat? She wondered if they would eat if she made food for them. Then her mind wandered to Molly - who was Molly’s celestial parent? Then she wondered who her demonic parent was. How had her Mom not known that she was possessed - or Dean, for that manner? Did she and Lear share the same demonic parent? The thought shocked her, like ice in her veins and Jude physically froze. If they didn’t… Would that mean that they weren’t related? How did that work?

No, she shook her head at nobody. It didn’t matter if that’s what it meant, Lear was still her little brother. Besides, he looked just like Eleanor. They were related, if by nothing else, by choice. Jude didn’t really care, she convinced herself. (Though it would have still hurt her deeply to find out different.)

She sighed, and then Lear sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Sunny?” Jude sighed, smiling at him. She had missed him more than she cared to admit and it was nice to have her brother back. She entertained the thought that they were a little codependent, but weren’t Sam and Dean codependent too?

“Right here, Moonbeam. Ready for breakfast?” He nodded and she helped him down from the bed, leading him to the kitchen. Jude was a little anxious, not that she would admit that, to be so comfortable in the bunker. She still felt like she was thin ice with Sam and Dean - and on thin ice with herself. She didn’t want to walk too far across the lake if the ice was going to break and send her under.

Jude settled Lear on one of the counters before turning to the fridge. “I don’t know what they have, Lear, but I can do my best.” The fridge, as expected, was nearly bare. There was milk that looked… Well, it looked wrong. Jude wrinkled her nose and moved on, making sure to smell the orange juice before she poured two glasses of it. She didn’t want to accidentally serve her six year old brother a screwdriver. Just to be safe, she tasted it before handing over the glass, but it was good. No vodka. “I think these eggs are good, kiddo, you want some eggs?”

Lear nodded, the glass clasped between his small hands. Jude looked over him fondly, something like maternal pride blooming in her chest - well, as maternal as a thirteen year old girl could feel. “Can I have an omelette?” Jude checked the fridge, frowning when there was no cheese to be found. She hated to disappoint her brother.

“Sorry, Moonbeam. No cheese to be found.” Jude put her hands on her hips but then moved to the freezer. “But there’s bread! Do you want dunkin’ eggs?” Lear nodded, wiggling back to cross his legs underneath himself. “Awesome.”

Jude busied herself by finding the things she needed to cook. She found the spatula and utensils easily - they were in decorative vases on the counter. She would bet that was Sam’s work, but the skillet? That was Dean’s doing. Jude rolled her eyes when she opened the oven and found it full of all of the cooking pots, pans, and skillets. Even with the small amount she knew about her uncle, she knew that he wouldn’t do that. She struggled to find the oil, so eventually Jude settled on using butter. Lear, in her peripheral vision, wrinkled his nose in a familiar way.

“Hey,” Jude chastised, setting everything out on the counter next to the stove, opposite the side that Lear was perched on. “I know you prefer oil, but butter works, too. It’s all they have here.” More to herself, she added: “I’ll have to ask Cas or someone to take me to the store, I guess. I can work someone over at the bar for cash…”

The eggs were, in fact, good. Jude counted eleven, and did the math in her head. Lear would eat one egg and some toast, she’d probably eat two… She was ballparking Sam and Dean both eating at least three eggs, if not four. That was okay, then they’d finish off the eggs. Plus, she could always eat just one egg and just eat an early lunch… Jude shook her head, sighing through her nose. She was spending too much time stressing about the number of eggs in the house.

“You okay?” Lear, who had always been slightly more perceptive than your average six year old should have been, cocked his head at his older sister. Jude smiled and only ruffled his hair before beginning the search for plates. She stopped only to take a sip of her juice and move a chair against the counter. Jude hoped she would grow and with a Dad as tall as Dean, she had incredible hope that she’d be tall, if not taller than average. She clambered up on the chair, and then kneeled on the counter. Luckily the plates were in the first cabinet she opened, and she didn’t fall or drop them getting back to the ground.

Once that was done she moved on to the actual cooking. Lear watched her with sleepy eyes, and they made small talk. “What are you into, Lear? I write you all these letters and tell you about what I do, but you never write me any back!” Jude was kidding of course, keeping a watchful eye on the egg she was cooking for him. “Like, what do you like to do?”

Lear pursed his lips and thought for a second. “I like to play soccer, but we didn’t get to do that a lot at the house.” Jude quirked an eyebrow as she flipped the egg, being careful so that she didn’t break the yolk.

“The house?”

“Yeah, I lived there with lots of other kids. Sometimes their parents would come pick them up, like Dad did, when they turned six. I guess they were all like me. Do you think that they could make things float when they got scared, too?” Jude paused, heart hammering with the spatula hung in the air between the pan and the plate, egg wiggling precariously.

“Oh, maybe. I’m not sure.” She tried to keep her tone light. “Who took care of you?”

“A woman named Jill.” Jude nodded, handing him the plate and the toast she had prepared when thinking about the logistics of how many eggs each person in the bunker would consume. “She was nice, but not as nice as you or Mom. It was kinda cool, like sleepaway camps that the other kids would talk about. We all slept in the same room, though.”

Lear dipped a ripped piece of toast in the yolk of his egg, chewing happily as Jude propped herself up on the island across from him. “Were the other kids nice?” Lear nodded, cheeks puffed out with food in the way that six years olds ate: with reckless abandon and with no care for the mess they’re possibly making. “That’s good. I’m glad they were nice to you. Did Dad ever tell you why you were there?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lear’s voice was muffled through yolk-y toast and egg whites. “He said that hunting was too dangerous for me, but that he had a plan. He’d come back for me. Jill taught me how to read, and how to write. I liked Jill. When he came and got me he said that he had to go meet with a friend, and then we’d go see you. I don’t remember much after that.” He looked off to the side and Jude panicked, hoping he wouldn’t be able to remember what Gabriel had locked away. Lear swallowed the food in his mouth and then took a deep drink of his orange juice. “I woke up here. I was scared.”

“I should have been there when you woke up, Learie, I’m sorry. I’ll teach you how to control stuff like that, though. It gets easier, and not so scary.” The siblings shared a smile and Jude moved to begin cooking her breakfast. When Lear was done - just as she was plating her own two eggs and toast - she put his dish in the sink. She’d wash them later, probably after lunch. Jude hated that, feeling like a housewife, and wanted to do something less… Domestic. But domestic was what Lear needed. She’d bend over backwards to give Lear what he needed to grow up differently than she did.

Jude moved Lear to the table on the other side of the island, and she sat and tried not to eat like a wild animal. She was so hungry, dear God, but she knew she had to pace herself. She’d get sick if she didn’t - and besides, Dean appeared in the doorway looking gruff and frustrated and her appetite was gone immediately. Her stomach curled dangerously.

“What'cha doin’?” Jude froze, spine straight and she tracked Dean with her eyes. He sounded mad, and looked angry too. It was familiar to Jude, unfortunately. He made his way to the coffee machine and Jude cursed internally, sharing a smile with Lear to try and reassure him. Dean went about making himself coffee, and Jude finished her food at a much more rapid pace than before, trying not to think about how much trouble she’d be in when he realized that she hadn’t answered him. Jude stood, putting her plate in the sink before hovering near the stove, where everything was still laid out. It was messy, she realized. She had entered the kitchen and it was spotless, and she had made a mess. Habitually, she braced herself when Dean turned around, but he just looked sleepily over the his mug and sighed when he took the first drink.

Jude gestured to the stove, trying to smooth things over in case Dean was angry with her. “D'you want some eggs? I’m not the best cook, but I make do.” He shrugged and Jude hesitated. What did that mean? Desmond was always so cut and dry, and Dean usually was, too. She didn’t know how to deal with him when he was half awake from the long night. Finally he nodded.

“Actually, that sounds pretty good. Didn’t know we had any food, honestly. Been a minute since we got to the store.” Jude smiled at him, willing herself to feel more relaxed. Dean, it seemed, was waking up faster than she expected and his attitude was changing as he did so.

“The milk is bad,” She told him lightly, “I think it’s growing something.” Dean huffed a laugh through her nose, shaking his head. He took a seat that the table, leaning heavily on his elbows as Jude got to work cooking three eggs for him and getting his toast ready in the toaster.

“Wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in that fridge.” He shook his head when Jude shot him a curious look. “You don’t want to know.” Jude forced out a laugh and tried to make sure it didn’t sound nervous. Then she cursed as she broke one of the yolks for Dean’s eggs. For a brief second, she panicked. “Don’t worry about it, kid.” Dean said, like he knew what had happened. “Don’t mind it much. All goes the same place, anyhow.”

Dean smiled at her when she delivered his plate, and Jude felt herself relax some more. Of course Dean wasn’t like Desmond and he’d done nothing - well, not nothing per se but he had never hit her - to show that he was even leaning in that direction. In fact, Jude almost felt guilty doing so much to try to prevent that from happening. Lear finished off his juice and passed the glass to Jude and when she stood to put it in the sink, she felt the pressure in the room change. She stopped short, cocking her head as she tried to figure out what was happening.

Jude whirled around when she realized, locking eyes with her brother. He looked scared - he could feel it too. “Sunny-!” He whimpered. Dean’s head whipped toward Lear, opening his mouth to ask a question. The glass in Jude’s hands began to vibrate and she looked down at it just before it shattered violently. She wasn’t sure what she said, but she was sure that she cursed. Her own power, she referred to it as a muscle rather than a power, flared just as the first shard of glass cut her across the bridge of her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut until the chaos of the room softened into silence.

When she opened her eyes, the glass was hanging in the air like some sort of avant garde art piece. Dean was halfway out of his seat, mouth hanging open as he gazed at her. Jude sucked in a shaky breath, blood falling from the cut on her nose, off the end of it. Her hand was bleeding, too, and much worse. She watched Dean grow pale when he saw the blood. “Can I please have a trash can or a bag, please?” Jude did her best to keep her voice steady, but it didn’t work. Her voice wavered and her eyes welled up with tears.

Dean sprung into action and she dropped the glass into the bag he provided - but she kept her hold on Lear’s shifting concentration. He was scared, and that would make it worse. Her body was tense as she tried to keep Lear from destroying anything else, and it was beginning to ache. Dean wrapped Jude’s hand in gauze, and wiped the blood off of her nose. He bent to look her in the eyes, his bright eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jude nodded, trying to contort her face into a comforting smile. She missed the mark just a little bit, grimacing instead. “I’m good, swear. I just need Lear to calm down before I can do anything else. It’s been a long time since I’ve used this particular muscle and it’s a little hard to concentrate on anything else without losing my grip.” Dean held her gaze for a few more seconds, but then rounded the table to Lear.

Her brother looked up at Dean, eyes wide and tears tracking down his face. He almost looked scared and Jude couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know Dean, and sometimes he would see Desmond hit her. That would make any kid afraid of adults, she thought. It certainly made her afraid of most adults.

Dean crouched and the energy surrounding Lear flared. Jude fought for control, like she was trying to hold down a rapidly expanding balloon with a blanket but the balloon was a hot air balloon and the blanket was a washrag. That is, to say, it was not going very well. She gritted her teeth and steeled herself, hurt hand curling in on itself as her nails dug into the gauze covering the cuts on her hand. The pain seemed to ground her a little bit, which was messed up in it’s own right, but Jude couldn’t afford to think about that.

She watched her father run a hand over Lear’s head, the boy whimpering. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. Nobody is angry at you, okay?” Dean nodded, smiling up at the boy. “I need you to calm down, Lear, so that Jude doesn’t have to work so hard, okay? We want her to be able to relax, she’s had a rough few days.” Lear nodded, and the hot air balloon shrank a little bit. “I know you didn’t mean to do that-”

“-I didn’t.” Jude closed her eyes. Lear’s voice sounded so small, and so hurt. She had done such a bad job protecting him - she’d failed her mother. “I didn’t mean to break the glass! It felt like I was gonna puke, but in my chest instead of my stomach. It felt weird.” Jude opened her eyes as she pulled the washcloth a little tighter over the hot air balloon. Dean wiped the boys eyes and Jude was struck with just how tender he was being with her brother when he had fought so vehemently against being her father.

Jude decided that she was not jealous, and she would not have that thought again. (But, of course, she would probably have that thought again in the near future.)

Dean talked Lear down, eventually wrapping the boy in his arms. Jude collapsed into a stool at the island when she was finally able to let go, her spine and ribs feeling like they had been simultaneously stretched and shrunk. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as Dean took Lear out of the kitchen. He came back several minutes later with a first aid kit and guided her to the table, removing the gauze from her hand. The bleeding had stopped.

“I set Lear up in your room with my laptop, some soccer documentary on Youtube to keep him entertained for at least a few hours.” He smiled at Jude as he began to disinfect her hand, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jude recognized the fear easily, because it was almost like she was making the face and Dean was just a mirror. She nodded at him, lips pursed as he began to dress her hand. She could already feel guilt crawling up her spine to her lungs to suffocate her. Jude tried to fight it down, but it was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you clean up last night.” Jude finally said, taking her hand back when the cuts were dressed Dean began to disinfect the cut on her nose. She was apologizing for so much more than that, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. Jude just hoped Dean picked up on it. “I know it probably took a long time.”

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, unfortunately applying a bandaid over the cut. She wrinkled her nose, not liking the way that the bandaid draped over the bridge of her nose onto her cheeks. It made her look like a child. “Cas popped in and he fixed it pretty easily.” Jude gave him a Look, and hoped it was similar to the Look that Sam always gave him.

“Cas was over? That late?” She tilted her head at Dean. “It was like, three in the morning.” Her father flushed and pointedly avoided her eyes. “Are you gonna tell him?”

“Don’t think about him too hard, okay? It’ll go through Angel Radio as a prayer.” Dean hissed, embarrassed. Jude bit back a laugh and nodded seriously. “No, I’m not. Damn, kid, why are you so nosy?” He grumbled under his breath as he began to clean up the first aid kit and she grinned at him, doing her best to feel better. If she faked feeling better, she had learned growing up, she eventually wound up actually feeling better.

“It’s fun,” She enthused, trailing after him as he went to put the first aid kit back. “Plus, he calls me Fledgling. That has to mean something about how he feels about you, doesn’t it? That’s like, a bird word for kid, right?” Dean sighed when he put the kit back underneath the sink and then leveled her with a humored glare.

“It is. But Cas used to be the one in charge of the younger angels when he wasn’t one of Heaven’s Most Rejected. I don’t think it has anything to do with me.” He tried to exit the bathroom, but Jude stopped him. He tried a few more times, but Jude was there sliding in front of him and blocking his exit. "What?“

"You’re grouchy,” Jude exclaimed. “I was just going to ask where he was at.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Dean rolled his eyes, “And I’m not his keeper.”

“But you know where he’s at, though?”

“Yes,” Dean groaned. “You are so pushy, Jude. He’s with Gabe, looking for information on your whole-” Dean gestured at her and Jude scrunched her nose again. “Yeah, the whole nephilim thing.” Jude let Dean by and he headed toward the library. With nothing better to do, especially with Lear occupied with a documentary, she followed him. The only pit stop Jude made was to grab her journal from her room, pressing a quick kiss to Lear’s head, and then joined Dean at the library table.

It had been a long time since she had written in the journal, so there was a lot to catch up on. She made a new spread for nephilim, where she sketched her face, Molly’s face, and Lear’s face. It was mostly the opposite of the Djinn page: she had the sketches, but no information. She labored over the journal pages until nearly ten in the morning, when Dean got up to check on Lear and Castiel appeared while he was out of the room.

“I have news, Fledgling. It is not good, I am afraid. Have you dreamed of Eleanor lately?”


	12. “ground control to major tom, your circuit’s dead. there’s something wrong.”

**content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence & blood & torture, mention of death, descriptions of physical/mental/emotional abuse, mentions of parental death, graphicly described ptsd sympotms including a flashback, symptoms of abuse described**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=MWRiMjAzZGVkNzRjZDU5NTg1NTRhZjFkNTk3YmMwZmI1OTg3YjI4ZCx5S2hIbFlxdg%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F611417183168397312%2Fch12-ground-control-to-major-tom-your-circuits&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=NmFlODM1YTRkN2FhM2FmNTFiN2Y2ODA5NzNhNTc2YmMxYjcxOTI4MCx5S2hIbFlxdg%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F611417183168397312%2Fch12-ground-control-to-major-tom-your-circuits&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -  
  


Castiel didn’t want to tell Jude what he meant until everyone showed up, but there was one problem: who would watch Lear? He had finished his documentary and didn’t want to watch another. Just because he’d seen a lot for a six year old didn’t mean that he had to continue seeing that shit. At least, that was Jude’s opinion. Dean seemed to share that ideal, as well.

Luckily it was one that almost everyone shared. They quickly figured out a solution: Castiel called for Gabriel, who took the boy to the library to entertain him. Gabriel and Jude shared some snarky comments, but she was sure that was just to try and cheer her up because she was shaking like a leaf. Everyone filed into the War Room and sat - well, everyone but Castiel. He stood at the head of the table, between the Winchester men and directly across from Jude.

She felt a little bit like she was facing down the firing squad once more. Her throat constricted, and she prepared herself for the worst. What would the worst be? Would she be kicked out? Would they send her away?

Her head was spinning away from her like a bad carnival ride and her heartbeat was thrumming in her ears like the ocean. She waited, once again, for someone to speak. Castiel took that mantel upon himself, sighing loudly in the silent room. He repeated his question - asking Jude if she had been visited by her mother in her dreams.

“Just once,” Jude confessed, doing her best to keep eye contact with Castiel. She wanted to do that because it was easier than looking at Dean, or even Sam. “Last night.” Castiel nodded and put his hand on the back of Dean’s chair, leaning against it. “Why? It was just a dream. I don’t understand why it’s important.”

“I’m afraid it was not a dream, Fledgling.” Castiel rumbled, “You are a nephilim, with a connection to Hell through your very soul. I have gathered information and, as I was speaking to a crossroads demon, he informed me that Eleanor was attempting to make contact with you.”

“Whoa, wait, what does that mean?” Dean twisted in his chair to look up at Castiel. “Is it like what used to happen to Sammy?”

Sam turned to glare at his brother, and Jude’s eyes flickered back and forth between them. The tension in the room seemed to skyrocket. “Dude, I was having visions.” His voice was low, and he cut his eyes toward Jude intermittently. “I was never visited by a person who’s supposed to be in hell.”

“You watch your mouth, Sammy.” Dean warned. He didn’t look at Jude, and she twisted her hands in her lap. Her fingers ached. “Don’t forget when that yellow-eyed bastard visited you in your dreams when you were in that Hunger Games bullshit? It could be the same thing, right, Cas?”

Castiel shook his head and cast a concerned look between the Winchesters. “Azazel was a demon. Eleanor is still human. The demon that was possessing her when she conceived both Jude and Lear had been exorcised before her death two years ago. This seems to come from Jude’s connection to Hell and her connection to her mother.” Sam seemed to be on the defensive, then, jaw clenched. Dean just seemed to deflate like a balloon. “What did Eleanor say to you, Fledgling?” The attention turned back to her, and she felt herself flush with embarrassment.

Jude appreciated that Castiel was being soft with her and actually looking at her. Neither Sam nor Dean were doing either of those things and it made her feel incredibly alone. Jude cleared her throat, looking down to the red, irritated skin of her hands as she wrung them. “Uh, we spent a little bit just talking. She asked me how Lear is doing. I told her that Desmond is dead.” Jude dug her thumbnail into the palm of her hurt hand, pain zinging through her arm. “I didn’t tell her I killed him, though.”

“You didn’t kill him.” Castiel assured her. “You do not have the power to smite. You were simply burning him from the inside out, and Molly smote him.”

“Oh, that makes me feel loads better.” Jude rolled her eyes. “But, um, then I asked her if she knew. You know, I thought it was a dream so I thought I was making shit up but I guess if it’s real then it’s important?” Jude shrugged and looked away. Her heart was hammering and her throat was dry. “I asked if she knew that this would happen. I needed to know, even if at the time I thought it was fake. She said yes - but-!” Jude rushed to defend her mother even if nobody was judging Eleanor. “-She didn’t know she was possessed.

"She told me that when I was a baby she found a demon in the motel room. She said he was gonna do something to me-” Jude’s eyebrows tugged together, trying to remember the fading dream. it had been hours since she had been on that beach with her mother, but it was beginning to feel like years. “It was something that would have made me too powerful as a nephilim, I guess. She said it was like handing a kid a nuclear bomb. So the demon made a deal with her that I’d have everything I’d ever need to keep control. She told me that the plan was for Desmond to give Lear the medicine, too, so he’d never present as nephilim. She didn’t seem to care either way whether or not I was still taking them, now, though.

"Before she left she told me she was happy.” Jude coughed, trying to rid herself of the scratch of tears in her throat. She was so embarrassed. “She said that she got ten years with me, four with Lear, and…” Jude’s eyes flickered to Dean, who had an unreadable expression on his face. “She was happy with the time she got with everyone.” She hoped the message got across. “I think her deal is null and void now that Desmond’s dead. That’s what she said, at least.” Jude tilted her head, shrugging like it was fine.

Dean blew out a large breath, dropping his head to his hands. Castiel was rubbing Dean’s back, cooing to him in a volume that Jude was sure she wasn’t supposed to be able to hear - Sam appeared to not be able to hear it, in fact. He was glaring at her, jaw locked. Jude startled when she saw the intensity in Sam’s eyes. “You said the demon was going to do something to you? As a baby?”

“Sammy, calm down. It’s not the same thing. I know I said I thought so, but you heard Cas.” Dean’s voice was muffled, and Sam jumped up from his seat, chest heaving. “Dude.” Dean looked up at Sam, his mouth twisted into a snarl.

“How old were you?” His voice raised, sending a tremor of fear through Jude.

“Why?” Jude stood as well, her cells buzzing with energy. Sam towered over her, and he looked pissed. She was almost sure he’d never lay a hand on her, but if he did it would hurt a hell of a lot more than Desmond ever thought about hurting her. Dean and Castiel moved at the same time, Castiel giving Dean room to stand and then immediately crowding back in. Sam gestured angrily at her, sucking in air through his teeth. “I was like six months old, or some shit. Jesus.”

Sam cursed and rounded the table in quick, powerful strides. Jude scrambled out of the way, every facial expression she had ever had to protect herself just out of her grasp. She sucked in too much air, crashing around the rounded table backwards, her hands reaching behind her for anything, something to protect herself. Sam didn’t follow her, only exiting out the door and slamming it behind him. Jude’s head was spinning, everything in her body aching as the chairs around her began to vibrate. If she wasn’t careful, they’d explode in a shower of splinters.

She toppled over a chair, hitting the ground hard. She pushed herself up, clambering back across the rough, motel carpet. It was dirty, but she didn’t care. She had to get away - Desmond was making his way toward her. Jude didn’t even pause to think it was weird that he wasn’t speaking because the rushing in her ears would have prevented her from hearing it, anyway. She felt the motel wall on her back and let out a shaky breath. She was cornered. Desmond headed her way, a wild glint in his eyes.

Jude closed her eyes and shook her head, doing her best to disappear into the wall behind her. Something felt wrong, felt off, but she didn’t understand. Desmond grabbed her by the shoulder, squatting in front of her. “Please!” She shouted, hands moving to try and push his hand off of her shoulder. It didn’t budge. Desmond struck her, her left cheek stinging, and she cried out again. “Stop!”

Desmond seized her shoulder again, and procured a red-hot brand from behind his back. Fear gripped every cell in Jude’s body and smothered them, and she fought harder against him but he was so much bigger… So much stronger. His voice cut through the tumbling in her brain. “Jude! Stop fighting!” Quick as a flash he pressed the shape into the front of her shoulder, her skin burning and smoking as the pain shot through her spine, infecting her whole body. The scream that left her mouth was horrible; a grating, sickening sound and she did her best to writhe away from the source of the stabbing, intense pain. Jude clenched her eyes, begging Desmond to stop in a broken voice. It hurt, she couldn’t think past the pain, and then the pain was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Jude sobbed. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” Her head was spinning, and so was the room around her. Desmond leered at her - but something was off. His eyes… They were the wrong color. They were filled with fear. He was talking, not yelling. He was crying.

Dean grasped her shoulders, Castiel looming over his shoulder. “Jude, can you hear me?” Her chest was heaving, and she looked between Dean and Castiel. She was shaking, shaking so badly it seemed like she could have shook right out the door. Dean’s hands were rubbing slow, soothing circles on her sweaty shoulders. “That’s right, kid, come back to me. It’s okay.”

“I believe that was a flashback, Dean.” Castiel crouched next to Dean and smiled reassuringly at Jude even though his eyes were critical. “She is showing all of the symptoms.”

“Of course it was, Cas.” Dean’s usually harsh remark was softened. His eyes never left her. Jude nodded, her breathing beginning to even out. Her body felt like it was on fire, she felt like her scar was a new, fresh wound. She wanted to run away, to disappear, but she knew that Dean wouldn’t allow that. “What happened, Jude? Was it something we said?”

Jude tried to speak, but she couldn’t say anything. It was like Desmond burned her voice right out of her, even though as her head cleared she knew that he was dead. Dean smiled and lowly asked Castiel to back up and give some room. He moved until he was sitting against the wall next to Jude, wrapping a strong arm around her. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk right now.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Castiel had disappeared but Jude was almost willing to bet anything that he was hovering just outside of the door, or in Dean’s consciousness. “Does it have anything to do with this scar on your arm?”

Thankfully, Dean didn’t touch the scar. Jude nodded, pulling her legs as close as she could to her chest. She leaned over into Dean’s hold - it was the first time she had any semblance of a comforting father figure and… She didn’t want to admit it but it was nice. Jude had never had a flashback before (it felt so real, it was almost impossible to believe that she wasn’t back there) but Dean being there made it less scary. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose. Dean squeezed her tighter.

He spoke again after a moment or two of silence. “I noticed it when you ran into the library this mornin’. It’s not small, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up but I figured that you’d either explain it later. You know, you reminded me a lot of me when you did that?” Something in Jude shifted, surging. She analyzed it, confused. Was she proud? Did she feel proud that Dean said that? “You heard him scream and then you were in the room. I was like that with Sammy. I almost wish that we weren’t so similar, kid, because you’ve had such a tough life but I can’t help but be proud at the way you turned out even though I wasn’t there to raise you.” Jude nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

She began to sob, curling into Dean’s side to clutch at his shirt. She cried into his side while he cradled her. “I’m sorry.” She managed to get out, “I’m sorry that I’m broken. I’m sorry that I thought Sam was gonna hurt me. I’m sorry that I can’t even take care'a my brother by myself and you have to help me with it.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be sorry.” Dean’s voice was gruff, like he was about to cry, too. “You don’t gotta apologize ‘bout any of that. Sammy was way out of line acting that way, and I don’t mind Lear bein’ around. He makes you happy, and that’s important to me. And I’m broken too, kid, remember? So is Sammy, and Cas. We’re Winchesters, that’s just how we’re built.” Jude laughed, her sobs ending but the tears were still rolling down her face. She hated crying, hated how weak she felt, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. He was rubbing small circles on her back. “You wanna go for a ride? I’m sure Gabriel won’t mind watchin’ Lear for a little while longer.”

“I’d like that.” Jude rasped.

She half expected him to not go through with it, but he really did. Dean herded her to the Impala, making sure that she didn’t see Sam or Gabriel or Castiel in her disheveled state. Jude was thankful for that.

Dean drove a little too fast with the windows down on some backroad in Lebanon. Jude let her hand ride the air outside the window, and Dean let her pick the music they played. She chose Move It On Over because it reminded her of the time she had spent in the car with Dean in that stupid Djinn dream.

In the weeks that followed her flashback, she was almost afraid she was back in the poison induced dream again because everything was perfect. Too perfect.

She and Lear began sparring in the gym, and Castiel was around more often. Dean took her on more rides, especially when she got worked up or had flashbacks to Desmond. Dean had given her a phone one day, one that was on Ellen’s phone plan. She and Molly began texting a calling, a friendship blooming between them. Her brother was more in control than ever and had taken a liking to the angel Castiel. He didn’t really like Gabriel, which was fine. Sam was avoiding her like she had contracted the Bubonic Plague, basically sprinting from the room whenever he saw her - but that was the only thing that wasn’t going right.

She began calling her father Dad instead of Dean regularly, and to his face as well. He seemed to light up when he heard her say Dad. Jude didn’t want to lose anything she had gained - the only thing she wanted to lose was the look on Sam’s face when he was avoiding her. It was making it hard to figure out what was in the pills that Desmond had been making her take.

Dean could only research so much before he got antsy, and Jude was the same way. Sam was the one who could bury his head, and he wouldn’t be in the same room with her. Nobody had really thought to ask Castiel or Gabriel yet.

Honestly, she was almost jealous; especially she would catch sight of Sam roughhousing with Lear through doorways, hear her brother’s laughter echoing off of the walls of the bunker. She tried to push that out of her mind though, and focused on becoming the daughter and niece she knew they probably always wanted.

Jude did the laundry and she cooked breakfast and lunch. She took up sending Ellen cases that she caught online because nobody in the bunker had hunted in what felt like forever. (It was starting to make her antsy, and she could tell Dean was getting antsy too. Jude had caught Castiel comforting Dean one day and had watched the angel press a soft kiss to her father’s nose. She didn’t say anything, and kept funnelling cases to Ellen for the woman to disperse to the hunting community.) Jude even began reading in the library, sitting Lear down and reading to him from textbooks to make up for the schooling he wouldn’t get.

She tried everything she could think of to make sure that they liked her for real. Jude even stopped cursing, stopped cleaning her gun and sharpening her blade where Sam could see her. She did her damndest to become a sweet, little, civilian girl who lived with her Dad and her Uncle but nothing seemed to work. Her frustration was growing, but like a good girl she swallowed it down.

She swallowed down the bile, too, when her actions began reminding her of who she was with Desmond. But that didn’t matter.

Lear mattered.

Dean mattered.

Sam mattered.

Castiel and Gabriel mattered, too.

Jude steeled herself every morning in the mirror, hard green eyes crinkling as she practiced her smile, and convinced herself that she didn’t matter. Not really, anyway.


	13. “i don’t need anybody, i’m a forest child. i’ll trace my casting circles in the mud, ‘cause something’s boiling in my blood.”

**content warnings: mention of depression, mention of murder, mention of gun violence, religious overtones, brief physical violence, brief mention of familial violence, mention of parental death**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=MmRkMTYzZWFlYzNkNGQzNTdkNmI3MmMwZjJjODg0YmI5M2I1ZjVhZSwzdUdJWFl3TA%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F612047558544670720%2Fch13-i-dont-need-anybody-im-a-forest-child&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=MTQ1MmM0ZTllNDMyNGQ2ZDQyMGRhN2Q3MTEzZWJkN2Y1MTk5ODJiZCwzdUdJWFl3TA%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F612047558544670720%2Fch13-i-dont-need-anybody-im-a-forest-child&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Molly, Jude found out, was more of a risk taker than her. The girls had been video chatting, up too late without their caregiver’s knowledge, and it was all Molly’s idea. She was filling Jude in on what she had been doing since they had seen each other last. “Gabe and Cas come by and we train. It’s cool. I have wings now, sometimes. It’s hard to keep them here, but now they’re like… Just kinda on my back now. They don’t touch anything, but I can see them all the time now. I think it’s fucking awesome.”

Jude had rolled her eyes, smiling at the girl she had began to call her best friend, “Of course you do. I’ll have to start calling you Feathers instead of Dear Prudence.” Molly smiled sweetly at her and Jude reflexively smiled back, something in her chest tight but warm.

“Of course you would, Lovely Rita, only you would change someone’s nickname.” Jude tried not to blush at the nickname. “They’re low-key sure you have some wings, too. I wonder how we’d unlock yours. I had to think about like, happy shit. I didn’t have much of it, but I made my way.” Jude scrunched her nose and tilted her head, listening for a moment to make sure they weren’t caught before she spoke.

“Like in Harry Potter?” She was glad she had headphones in, because Molly laughed loudly. Her head fell forward, shoulders shaking. Jude did her best not to glow at the thought that Molly was laughing because of her.

“Yeah, sorta, I guess. That’s funny. I didn’t think about that.” Molly shifted, the camera going blurry until she reappeared. “I also learned how to fly. Except, it’s not really like falling. It’s like falling and then this jerk - it’s really cool. Fast, too.” Jude tried not to feel jealous, but she did. She had nobody to teach her how to use her super cool nephilim powers, and nobody to teach Lear. But she had been pretending to be okay for everyone else, and it was becoming too easy. “I also learned to do this cool thing - Cas said you should be able to do it, too. It’s like, an angel and a demon thing.”

“What is it?”

“It’s like… Okay, have you ever heard of astral projecting?”

Jude thought, flipping through the rolodex of her head for anything like that. “Is it like African Dream Root? I read about that the other day. Seems cool, but like super dangerous.” Molly shook her head, setting the phone down for a moment to pull her hair back. “What is it?”

“It’s like an out of body experience. ” Molly explained, gesturing with her hands. Jude loved when she explained things, because Molly got so focused and animated. Her dark eyes seemed to glow and, well, sometimes they did glow. Jude thought that Molly getting so excited to explain something to her that her grace, just blooming and growing stronger, began to go haywire was… Awesome. It made Jude’s stomach twist. “But like, on purpose. And you’re controlling yourself and nobody can see you. You can call your body to where you’re at but it’s super hard. So far I just snap back into my body as soon as I lose concentration.”

“Can anyone see you?”

“Nah, you’re totally invisible unless they’re like us. Or like an angel or a demon. It’s pretty handy when I want to go see what’s happenin’ down in the bar but Jo and Ellen have sent me to my room.” Molly shrugged.

Jude cracked a melancholic grin. “I miss them.” She confessed softly. “I wish I could come see you.”

“If it makes you feel any better, they miss you too.” Molly’s voice also softened and the girls kept eye contact. It was strong and it felt intimate. Jude felt herself blushing. “Cas said something about being worried about us being in the same room now that we’re fully presented, or whatever. Especially now that it seems like I’m becoming more and more angel. I guess that’ll happen to you and Lear, too. We don’t really know. I know I should probably hate you, or like, whatever because you technically killed my Mom but she was gonna kill me. If not her, then Dad was going to.”

Jude let the guilt show on her face for a second, but that was enough for Molly to catch it. “Hey, none if that, Lovely Rita. I said I don’t hate you. I’m really grateful for you. Without you, Ellen, and Jo I never would be as safe as I am now. In fact, I’d probably be just another nephilim that’s whispered about in the Roadhouse.”

“Dear Prudence,” Jude breathed, “Don’t ever say that. You’re my best friend.” Molly’s dark eyes twinkled and the girl leaned toward the camera. She was good at intimidating Jude, even through a screen.

“Only your best friend?” Her voice pitched down.

Jude flushed and looked away. “You know what I mean, Molls.” They shared a grin like they shared secrets. “Anyway, have you guys had any luck figuring out what’s in those pills? We got jack shit over here, but maybe that’s because Sam won’t be in a room with me for more than two seconds before he’s gettin’ the hell out of dodge.” Jude shifted, reaching over to her desk for her journal. She had taken to sharing information with Molly so that the other girl could start her own journal, but also taking down information on looseleaf paper so she could put it in her own journal at a later time.

“He’s still doing that? I’m sorry, Jude. That sucks ass. But yeah, we figured out what it was! That was partially the reason I wanted to call you tonight. It’s… Gross.” Jude shot up, her back ram-rod straight. She fumbled with her phone, but practically just appeared in her desk chair so that she could write down whatever information Molly gave her.

“Holy shit, no way!” Jude tried to keep her voice hushed, but then it cracked and sent the girls into a fit of giggles.

“Way!” Molly said as she giggled. Jude readied herself to take down as much information as possible. “I’m not kidding, though, it’s fucking disgusting.” Jude paused, wondering if she actually wanted to finally solve the mystery of the pills she had been taking. Molly would tell her regardless, so her decision didn’t matter. It was a recurring theme in her life and if Jude was frustrated, she didn’t let herself feel that frustration. “It was diluted demon blood, Jude. Fucking gross. I guess demon blood is like the opposite of an adrenaline shot to angels, or nephilim. Cas said it wouldn’t work for you, though, because a pill full of demon blood would be like snorting six lines of coke and then doing bath salts for a nephilim that’s half demon.”

Jude sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. “So we figured you out, but got jack shit on me.”

Molly shrugged, biting her lip. “It really sucks because Cas and Gabe know angels. They know how we work and shit, but demons are so far removed from heaven anymore nobody knows anything. We’d have to talk to a demon to figure it out.”

Jude groaned, and then froze, listening for sounds of life approaching her room. Molly seemed to be doing the same, but the shock on her face indicated that she actually did hear someone approaching. “I gotta go! I’ll talk to you later - try that out of body thing! All you have to do is close your eyes and focus. Keep your concentration because getting snapped sucks. See you, Lovely Rita!”

Jude barely had time to say “Bye, Dear Prudence!” before the connection cut. She leaned back in her chair, pulling out her headphones. She was frustrated, so frustrated! By so many things. It was almost unfair, and a cold, blunt hurt had nestled in her chest and had stayed there. She just wanted everything to be okay, and wanted to go on hunts. She wanted to be loved, and wanted to figure out all the things that were question marks in her life.

Jude let her head hang back and her body some semblance of limp as she thought. She let her mind wander, rolling over the conversation with Molly in her head. Could she get out of her body? Maybe that would be nice, to just walk around and not have to pretend to smile or be okay or feel like a human. Jude smiled - yeah, that would be nice.

Knock knock, who’s there?

Not Jude!

When she shifted to go to bed, something about her body felt weird. She felt lighter, and her joints didn’t ache. Jude whirled and her heart hammered in her ears once more. (That was beginning to be a theme in her life.) She was definitely still laying in the desk chair, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling. She looked like she had passed out, but Jude wasn’t asleep. In fact, she was standing and looking at herself being asleep.

“Holy shit,” She whispered, touching her own face with her finger-tips. “I did it.” Jude turned and left her room, walking straight through the door. “This is so fuckin’ cool!” Jude checked on Lear first but he was sound asleep in his own room, nightlight casting harsh shadows on his face. Then she went to the library, wondering if Sam or Dean would still be awake. It was nearing midnight and the two hadn’t been staying up past eleven. (Jude would tease them about being old, but that wasn’t something a good daughter did so she resisted the urge. She still smiled and thought about it every time, though.) Jude almost regretted her decision when the library door was firmly shut and she could hear the tones of an angry argument happening behind the wood.

But her instincts told her to eavesdrop, and they hadn’t failed her awfully in her thirteen years alive. She stepped through the door and was shocked to see Sam and Dean nearly physically fighting, both squared up about two feet from each other. They looked murderous.

“You never pushed me this hard to accept Ben, Dean. Why is she any different?” Sam was seething, nostrils flared and chest heaving. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, and Jude was scared. She needed to concentrate, so she looked to Dean. He looked the same. It didn’t help her concentrate.

“I wasn’t one hundred percent sure Ben was mine, Sam. I am with Jude. You’re ignoring her, but playin’ with Lear like he’s your own. It ain’t right.” Jude’s blood ran cold. Did she have another brother? What was Dean talking about? Sam barked out a harsh laugh and Jude flinched. She felt incredibly guilty for coming between the brothers. “Besides, you didn’t push me so fuckin’ hard with Ben, either. You were the one who invited her here that night, Sam, the one always tellin’ me I should go back for her. You didn’t do that with Ben. You’re one to talk about this shit, man.”

“Ben had a mother,” Sam glowered, his voice shaking with anger. Jude took an instinctive step back. She should have left, should have went back to her room and her body and went to bed but she didn’t. She had to know what the conversation would culminate in. “He had someone who loved him unconditionally. Jude was lookin’ for an out to get away from Desmond, and I thought that I owed you that much. Maybe I made a mistake, but I was just tryin’ to fix things.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, man?” Dean threw his arms out and then shook his head. “I don’t understand why you think she’s so different now. She’s adjusting. She’s like you, Sammy, you could help her out here. God damn.”

Sam pointed a threatening finger at Dean. “She is not like me.” His harsh words were like a slap in the face to Jude. “She’s a nephilim. She’s half demon. Sure, she may be good and I don’t care that she’s here but that doesn’t change who and what she is. You can’t ignore that.” Each word was another pulse of the mass of pain that had settled in Jude’s chest. She made a choked noise in the back of the throat.

“You watch the way you speak about my daughter, Sam.” Dean’s voice had taken a dark turn, hardening into something sharp and dangerous. “She could use someone who understands even a fraction of what she’s goin’ through to talk to her. You tellin’ me you actually got a problem with her bein’ a nephilim or are you just scared to man the fuck up and help me raise my kid?”

“I’M NOT GOOD, DEAN!” Sam’s voice had raised several decibels, and Jude jumped, her eyes wide and on her uncle. He seemed to take a grounding breath before continuing. “I’m not fuckin’ good. All I’m tryin’ to do here, all I’ve been tryin’ to do since we found out about her, is make up for what I did to you years ago. I killed Emma, Dean. There was no other choice, but I still did it. I’m trying my hardest to atone, here, why are you on my back about this shit? Just let me do it in my own way.”

Who the hell was Emma? Jude looked to Dean - he looked like Sam had just shot him in the chest. He was pale, even.

“What do you mean there was no other choice, man?” His voice was so soft Jude almost couldn’t hear it. “There’s always another choice.” Dean sat against the back of the couch. “That’s the only reason you invited Jude to stay? Are you fuckin’ serious? Because you killed Emma, not because you wanted Jude to be safe or any of that shit you said?”

Jude’s head was spinning, and she fought for concentration. Who was Ben? Who was Emma? Why did Sam kill her? Why had Sam invited her to the bunker?

“She was a monster, Dean.” Sam pointedly ignored the second half of Dean’s statement. “She was going to kill you. She got in your head because what? She had your eyes? She called you Dad and asked you to protect her? I had to do it, man.”

“Shut up.” Dean said, looking more tired than Jude had ever seen him. Her gut twisted ominously. “Shut up, Sammy.”

“I had to. You think I wanted to? You think I wanted to bring Jude here after I had to do that? Dean, you think I’m fucking stupid, but I’m not. I know that if Lear has another outburst, he could kill all of us. Hell, if Jude gets too annoyed she could too. You heard Cas, right? She was burning Desmond from the inside out. She’s dangerous man, you can’t pretend she’s not half monster, too.” Sam shook his head at his older brother, scoffing.

In an instant Dean stood, and wrapped his hands in the collar of Sam’s shirt. “Don’t you dare call my girl a monster, again, Sammy. I swear to God, I’ll knock you on your ass.” He shoved Sam back, the younger man stumbling a few feet. “Besides, you didn’t seem to care who was a monster and who wasn’t when I killed Amy, did you? Why’re you actin’ so high and fuckin’ mighty now?”

Sam surged forward toward his brother, but Dean was ready for the attack. He turned, using Sam’s momentum to toss the taller man to the ground. Sam groaned and then pointed up at Dean. “Amy had a child, Dean! You orphaned her son!” Dean scoffed and looked around the room like he was trying to calm himself down. Jude froze, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t supposed to be hearing their argument, learning all of this information. “Jacob was in the room when you did it. That’s sick.”

“Don’t act like you give a shit about kids now, Sammy.” Dean practically spit his brother’s name, anger radiating from his frame. “Not after what you said about Jude, not after shooting Emma. It was never about kids.” Dean sneered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re afraid of, but you better get over it quick. You won’t be here long if you keep this up.”

Sam clambered to his feet and scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t we just send them to the Roadhouse, Dean? It would be safer for everyone.” Dean turned his back on Sam, one hand massaging his temples. “I’m not kidding, man. It’s not safe for you or for me if those two stay here.”

Jude was beginning to fade, her thoughts swirling too hard in her head to really keep concentration. She tried to focus on what Sam and Dean were saying - it was getting heated again - but she was having a hard time tuning back in. She managed it, though, with a triumphant smile on her face. Dean had taken a seat, slumped over with his head in his hands. “I guess you’re right, Sammy.” Jude’s body ran cold, shock filling her like God was pouring it in through the top of her head.

When she snapped back into her body, it was like cracking a whip over every single inch of her skin. Her stomach rolled and her head spun. Dean’s voice echoed in her head as she scrambled to her feet. She was hurt, she was angry, and she was scared. Most of all, though, she was already halfway done with a plan to get out of the bunker before they could kick her out.


	14. “you’ve got front row seats to the penitence ball. when i grow up i want to be nothing at all.”

**content warnings: mention of parental death, arguments, self-worth issues, depictions of intense guilt, parental anger**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=NDAyN2ZhZGU3Yjk1NDI3ZmMwOTM1OGFkZmNkNzQyZjkzYjkwZWViOSx0bmhFa3lhQw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F612681843818528768%2Fch14-youve-got-front-row-seats-to-the-penitence&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=OWI4YmJhN2U4NGQ1YzMyOWIwOGZjMDliOGZjZTc0NTA3ZjQ4N2MxNCx0bmhFa3lhQw%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F612681843818528768%2Fch14-youve-got-front-row-seats-to-the-penitence&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude packed her bag with quick, familiar precision. Her journals, her weapons, her clothing. She dressed quickly, too, holding her boots in her hand as she crept across the hallway to Lear’s room.

She packed him more clothing, and his newish journal slipped into her bag. Jude debated waking him but finally decided she would have to. There was no way she could get the boy in the Corolla without waking him. Jude couldn’t risk the brothers coming after them, not when she had just listened to Dean agree with Sam. The Winchester brothers would kill them, she was sure of it.

Jude cursed under her breath, watching Lear sleep. She was going to rip him from everything, she was going to lose everything. Fuck, she knew everything was too good to be true.

Jude closed her eyes, wondering who she could call on. Castiel - she didn’t think about him too hard - wouldn’t do it. He’d turn around and bring them to Dean, or Dean to them. Molly, she wasn’t sure Molly had the juice to do it. She was just learning to fly.

Jude stomped her foot and closed her eyes tighter, calling for Gabriel. Her lips formed the words as she thought, thought as hard as she possibly could have, for him to come help. “Gabriel, please. Lear and I have to get out of here. Somewhere far away from Kansas, away from Dean and Sam. You have to help us, make sure that we disappear.”

The room shuddered, and Jude almost laughed out loud when she opened her eyes and saw Gabriel. He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit Jude had ever seen on him - which wasn’t hard because he only wore one outfit.

Gabriel was wearing name brand slides, ridiculous yellow board shorts, and a matching Hawai'in shirt. It looked like he had smothered sun cream over only his nose but hadn’t rubbed it in, and the bucket hat he was wearing - which matched the shorts - hung disturbingly low over his eyes. He took a sip from his drink, a blue liquid in a martini glass with a freakin’ tiny umbrella in it. Jude thought she was going to have a stroke looking at him.

“Heya, Weechester.” Gabriel whispered, grinning at her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Gabriel, what’s this?” Jude gestured to him, taking a step forward. She only hesitated a moment before wrapping Gabriel in a hug. “It doesn’t matter, you have to get me and Lear out of here.” She looked up at him, and he didn’t even question her. It made her feel like she was making a good decision.

Gabriel took Lear, first. Jude waited, anxiously chewing on her lip as the minutes clicked by. He appeared again, reaching a hand out to Jude. She took it and, just before she felt like Augustus in the tube again, Gabriel gave her a sad, small smile. She landed and fell to her knees in a hotel room, then, and spun to look for Lear. He was asleep in one of the beds, looking like he hadn’t even be disturbed. She sighed and then moved to the window.

Jude gasped. They were on the coast - like, on the coast. The hotel was nestled right up to a beach that led to the ocean. It was familiar, like Jude had breathed the air and touched the sand before. “I may have taken a peek into your memories, Weechester. This is the beach your mother took you to.” Gabriel tried to make his voice light, but Jude could hear the stress that lived there.

“The one from my dream.” Jude mumbled.

“Yeah.”

“It looks different.” She turned to Gabriel and shut the curtains. “I guess it’s been a few years, though. Thank you, Gabriel. You have no idea how much this means to me. I know my necklace keeps me from being tracked, but is there anything we can do so that Cas won’t be able to find us through Lear?”

Gabriel sat down on the bed, a serious look on his face. He looked ridiculous in that getup with that look on his face, but Jude knew that they were about to have another heart to heart. She shook her head and sat down next to him. “Jude, what happened? Last I knew you two were doing good there. It was everything you wanted. Why leave now?”

“Dean was going to send me away.” Jude breathed, saying it outloud making it real. “I heard him and Sam talking about it. Besides - Sam fuckin’ hates me. He doesn’t hate Lear, but he hates me. Somethin’ about a demon in my motel room when I was a baby. Not for anything I can control.” Jude sighed, looking away from Gabriel. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. “Nobody has explained jack shit to me, and you and Cas are making such headway with Molly but we’re still fuckin’ stuck! And Sam doesn’t even want me there, said so himself.” Gabriel wrapped a tight arm around Jude and she tried not to roll her eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of being lied to.”

“I’m sure you got somethin’ wrong about that situation, Weechester. But you are your father’s daughter, and running is what the Winchester brothers do best. That and dying for each other.” Jude blew air out of her nose and shook her head. “I’m serious, kid. We can hole up here as long as you want, but one day you’ll have to face the music. That’s another thing that they’re good at - finding each other.”

Jude tried not to sigh and pulled away from Gabriel. “Can I go to sleep? I’m tired.”

Gabriel nodded and kissed her on the forehead, gesturing to the empty bed. He looked tired, just like Jude felt. She bypassed the empty bed, toed off her shoes, and crawled into bed with Lear. Instinctually the two children curled into each other and Gabriel watched for a second before he was gone and the lights were off. Jude took a deep, settling breath and let herself fall asleep knowing that she had beat the hurt to the punch.

Jude felt almost lucky that nobody visited her in her dreams because it was almost a good night of sleep. She woke up in the morning, already working on waking Lear so that he wouldn’t panic at the change of scenery. He just nodded, and then turned back over to go back to sleep. Jude laughed under her breath, and then stepped away to take a shower.

Gabriel was there when she came back and he was feeding Lear. Maybe Jude had taken longer than she thought in the shower, but she didn’t dwell on it. There was no point when the Californian sun was warming most of the floor in the hotel room and the ocean was calling her name. “Mornin’, Gabriel.” She bent to press a quick kiss to Lear’s cheek. “Mornin’ Learie.”

“Mornin’ Sunny!” He chirped back. “Are Sam and Dean gonna join us? It’s so pretty outside, I’ve never been to Ca'ifornia.” Jude froze where she was, digging in her bag to see if she happened to pack swimming clothes. She wanted to give Lear the same good memories she had of the beach if she could before he spent the rest of his life on the run.

“I don’t think so, Moonbeam.” Jude smiled at him over her shoulder, doing her best to select her words and her mask just so. “It’ll probably just me and you for a bit, bud. Maybe Gabriel if he keeps popping in and out, but that’s up t’ him.”

“Someone has to feed you two.” Gabriel didn’t have that twinkle in his eye like he usually did. He gestured to a bag sitting on the end of Lear’s bed. Jude elected not to rebuff what he said and instead pulled out swimming clothes for her - and for Lear. “Got those for you this morning. They should fit you.”

“Thanks, Gabriel.” Jude held up the clothes. “It’s like you read my mind - oh, wait.” They shared a smile and Jude went to change. She was taller than she used to be and a sudden growth spurt had left her unsteady on her feet. Jude wondered how short she really had been back when she first met Dean, Cas, and Sam. She was nearing five foot five - what did it feel like to see everything from underneath?

Jude laughed to herself and changed, the black swim trunks and matching swim shirt fitting her perfectly. She tied her hair back and pointedly avoided looking in the mirror. The angel was right - she was her father’s daughter and her eyes… The smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks… They proved it. It was unavoidable.

Gabriel knocked on the door a few seconds later, asking if she was decent. “Yeah, you can come in.” Gabriel settled himself in the doorway, leaning with his hip cocked. “You know you don’t have to take care of us, right? I’ve been sharkin’ pool since I was seven years old. I can get the cash, I can get the car, I can get us a stable place to live. Hell, maybe I’ll even end up catching a case or two.”

“Kid, you can’t travel around the states shakin’ bikers down in dive bars.” Gabriel shook his head and gazed at her. He really gazed at her. Jude shifted and wished that she was still wearing her flannel. She felt exposed under the angel’s gaze. “As long as you’re runnin’ from the Winchesters, I’m going to watch over you.”

“Why?” Jude sucked in a breath after she asked - she hadn’t really meant to ask that question. “Dude, Gabriel, thank you for everything but you don’t have to pretend. I know what I am, okay? I get it. I know that me and Lear are some big damn mystery everyone wants to solve, but I won’t let you guys. Not when none of you actually give a fuck about either of us!” Gabriel moved to block her exit before she even made the third step toward the bathroom door. “Let me leave, Gabriel, please.”

“Weechester, I don’t know what you heard but it was probably wrong.” She shook her head as Gabriel pulled her in, hugging her close. “I know you probably don’t see me as family, kid, but you are. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m a monster, Gabriel. I’m half demon, and so is Lear. I hunt things like me. Dean and Sam hunt things like me. Sam already killed one of Dean’s kids for being a monster and he doesn’t really want me there. He doesn’t care - everything has just been fake because he’s trying to give Dean the daughter he killed back but I wasn’t good enough. I tried, too, that’s the fucked up part. I tried to do everything right - I did most of the housework, I taught Lear, I sent cases to Ellen, and he still doesn’t like me. I’m never good enough. Just like with Desmond, I can never be enough.”

Gabriel kissed the top of Jude’s head, tugging on her pony-tail before taking a step back. She struggled to even out her breath. “I’ll tell you what, Jude. Sam, Dean, and Little Brother are going out of their minds trying to find you back in Kansas. If they find you, you have to talk. If they don’t, you don’t have to talk about them. How about we take Lear down to the beach and show him what the ocean is all about?” He clapped and turned around to walk back to the main part of the hotel room.

Jude amped herself up and got Lear ready, before the trio headed down to the beach. It was nearly empty, just like she remembered it. There were a few more cabanas, a few shore houses that Jude assumed were for vacationers, but it was still a nearly naked beach. Jude used that to her advantage, beginning by teaching Lear how to keep the water away from himself as they waded in.

“Just like that!” Jude encouraged, taking another step. The ocean floor was exposed as they stepped, the water nearly up to Lear’s waist in a bubble around them. “You’re doing so good!” Lear grinned up at her, but the momentary lapse in concentration sent the water rushing back at him.

Jude dropped her own circle of protection from the water and scooped Lear up, spinning him as they laughed in the chill of the water. “I did it!” Lear cheered, raising one fist. “Sunny I did it - hey, what are you doing?”

“Plug your nose, Moonbeam!” There was terror on Lear’s face, but the kind of terror that six year olds loved to feel. Jude tossed her brother deeper into the ocean, giving him a little push after he left her hands so he’d fly further. He disappeared beneath the water and Jude dove toward where he landed, both children coming up for air at the same time, giggling at each other. “Wave to Gabriel!”

They turned and waved to Gabriel, who was reclining on a brightly colored beach chair, drinking another fruity drink with a very small umbrella. He grinned and waved back, and the kids went back to training.

Eventually, of course, they ended up getting distracted in the way that kids do and just began playing in the shallow water. They were half trying to build a sandcastle out of the slip that was made by constantly wet sand and half just enjoying the texture and the sun on their skin.

It was nice. Jude almost wished that the two of them could stay in California, but they were hunters. They were nephilim. They probably couldn’t even stay in the same state for more than a month at a time, let alone the same town, house, or apartment. It just didn’t fit with the life they were born into. She wondered if there was a cure for their half and half status - she’d be willing to not only try it out to make sure it was safe, but give it to Lear without his consent. She’d make that call and take the consequences.

Jude knew about the pills, of course, but that seemed to be more of a band-aid solution. Besides, whatever was in the pills that her Mom had to make a demon deal to get? Jude didn’t want to touch that shit with a forty foot pole. She’d rather live the rest of her life skipping town every other week. Jude watched as Lear dug a sand dollar out of the slip and his face light up - yeah, she’d rather have that every single day for the rest of her life than risk him feeling like she did when she was on those damn pills.

“Hey, Learie, can I show you something?” Jude finally asked, catching his attention. They were sitting at the shore, letting the waves lap at their legs as their hands got dirty with sand. “It’s really cool; at least I think so.”

“You’re old,” Lear said, wrinkling his nose in an amazingly familiar way. Jude didn’t even let herself feel offended when he called her old. “If you say it’s cool, it might not be.”

“That’s true,” Jude sing-songed, getting up and dusting off her swim trunks. “But Mom thought it was pretty cool when she brought me here, so I thought you might too…” She trailed off and began to walk away, hugging the shore-line so the water would barely cover her feet. She counted backward from five with a smile on her face and when she hit one, she could hear Lear scrambling after her.

“Wait, hey, wait!” He caught up to her, his hand catching hers as he tugged her to a stop. “Sunny, I wanna see it! I wanna see whatever it is, I bet it will be super cool!”

“Mom was older than I am, you know.” Jude teased, pinching his nose briefly between her pointer and middle finger knuckles. “But fine, I guess I’ll show you.” She feigned reluctance and Lear jumped beside her, pulling on her arm. “Come on.” Jude led Lear to the rocks, and then around. Years of waves and tourists had turned some of the rocks flat enough to pass as a bench, nestled back in a nook created by some of the larger-than-man stones. Jude loved it when she was younger, and she loved it when she saw Lear’s face light up. “It’s cool, right?”

“It is!” Lear shouted, “It’s like a park bench that the Earth made!” Jude helped Lear up and he stood on the stone, looking out over the sea. She watched her brother do what she had done the first time she had visited the beach and thought… Well, she thought that they’d be okay. If she could give her brother moments like that, they’d be okay. “You’re right, this is cool. I’m sorry I called you old.”

She tucked Lear under her arm like every adult in her life was hell bent on doing to her, even kissing his temple. Jude sighed and took a deep breath with her nose buried in Lear’s hair. “I don’t care if you call me old, Moonbeam. Just that you’re safe and happy.”

He squirmed underneath her. “You sound like Mom.” And then, after a moment of hesitation he spoke again. “Will you tell me about her?”

“Mom?”

Lear nodded, looking down at his feet as he kicked them in the water below. “I don’t remember a lot about her, just that she loved us and she hunted like Desmond and you and Sam and Dean.” Jude nodded, swinging one leg up and over to face Lear. “I really miss her.”

“I miss her too, Moonbeam. I miss her more than I could even tell you, bud. Mom was… She was so cool. She was badass.” The siblings shared a matching grin that showed too many teeth and bordered on feral. “She could kill more vampires in a second than you thought possible, could burn the bones of a ghost faster than you could blink. She knew how to exorcise demons forward and backward, and nearly knew Latin. She could clean a Sig faster than you can, and could sharpen a knife without looking. She was strong, too.

"Mom liked to sing to us at night because she said Gramma never did it, and she wanted us to feel safe. That’s why I sing to you, because I want you to feel the same thing. Mom did so much for me, and she wanted to do the same thing for you. She loved you so much, Lear.” Both children were crying, Lear wiping his eyes and cheeks with the back of his hand. He was smiling, though, so Jude took that as a win. “Her favorite color was green, and her favorite flower was a petunia. She liked eating chicken and drinking strawberry milkshakes.”

“Thank you.” Lear mumbled. “I just miss her so much. I don’t remember a lot about her and it makes me feel bad.” Jude cooed at him, scooping the boy into her arms. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and let him cry. Sometimes that all he needed - and well Jude wouldn’t admit to it but sometimes that’s all she needed too. Eventually Lear calmed down and Jude smoothed his hair back, gently lowering them into the water below and making her way to the shore.

“Let’s go home and get some lunch, yeah? Then we can make Gabriel rent a movie and maybe we can take a nap.” Lear walked next to her as they climbed the beach to where Gabriel was sitting, looking for all the world like he was asleep. (Maybe he really was asleep - Jude had found out that he liked to take naps even if he didn’t require the REM.)

“A nap during the day?” Lear looked up at her. “Jill never let me take naps during the day, even if I was tired. She said naps were for babies.” Jude laughed out loud, startling Gabe right up and out of his chair. He coughed into his fist and pretended like he hadn’t been asleep as Jude heaved Lear into her arms.

“Naps are for babies, and for angels apparently. If big, bad Gabriel can take a nap, then you can too!” Lear was still a little weary around Gabriel, but warming up. “Come on, G-Man, we’re having lunch and then taking a nap!”

“Are we all taking a nap?” Gabriel reached out and touched a finger to Jude’s shoulder and then, with the uncomfortable pressure of angel-travel, they were back in the hotel room. “Or is Mister Learie the only one taking a nap?”

Lear squirmed out of Jude’s arms and nearly went feral on the fruit spread that was on the hotel table, shouting for joy when he found pineapple amongst the colors. “Probably only Lear. I want to go check out this shop - well, I want to see if it’s still here. They had some cool shit, and I want to see if I can’t pick something up for Lear.” Gabriel appraised her, squinting his eyes as if that would reveal whether or not Jude was lying. “Gabriel, come on. You can’t just hide us away in this hotel room until we go off on our own.”

“First, I’m not hiding you.” Gabriel passed her a plate filled with fruit and sweet dipping for the food. “Second, you’re not going out on your own. I’m an Archangel, kid, not the World’s Worst Babysitter.”

Jude sat down on the edge of the bed, grateful for her suddenly dried clothing via Gabriel. “I don’t need a babysitter, man. I’ve done this before.”

“You’re thirteen, Jude.” Gabriel took his place across from Lear who, in the way that six year olds usually were, was incredibly distracted by the fruit in front of him. “A kid can’t raise a kid.” Something akin to indignant resignation rose in Jude, and she clenched one of her hands. She could feel everything getting out of her control - her emotions, her abilities, her tear ducts.

“I am the only thing he knows.”

“That’s not true.” Gabriel stood and walked Jude out to the hallway. “He knows Sam, Dean, Cas… He knows me. You’re not alone anymore, Jude. You’re not responsible, or on the hook for anything. You can be a kid - as much of a thirteen year old hunter is a kid. You don’t have to play Parents, taking both the role of Mom and Dad for Lear anymore. You can let him be a kid, too. Dean has been praying to me since he figured out you took off and I’ve had to put up so much warding in the hotel room I’m surprised I can get in and out because Cas is turning into a savage angel. Even Sam is praying to me, begging me to find you and Lear and bring you back.”

Jude shook out of his hold, her face turning cold and impassive. “He called me a monster, Gabriel. I don’t care that it’s true, it fuckin’ hurt. It hurt so bad and that’s not even the worst thing I’ve ever been called. I know how hunters look at nephilim. We’re monsters. We’re abominations. On top of that, Dean has two other kids I don’t know about? He agreed to send me away, dude. I’m just giving him his fuckin’ wish.” She shook her head and walked backward, away from the stricken angel. “Lay Lear down for a nap for me, will you? I’m goin’ to check out that shop.”

Jude stepped into the elevator, letting the doors close before she collapsed against the wall. All of the fight drained out of her and the exhaustion settled into what felt like her bones. Life would have been so much easier if that damn Djinn had killed her. Jude groaned and kicked at the doors just before they opened, storming out of the lobby. She wished it had killed her! At least she would have lived the rest of her life with Dean and Lear as humans, not as two too dangerous nephilim, half demons sent to ruin the Winchester’s lives, apparently.

Jude, in her haze of anger-to-cover-the-hurt-and-sadness, found herself in front of a familiar shop. The name had changed, but the symbols in the window not only proudly proclaimed it was an occult shop, but a safe haven for hunters. The door above her pinged as she entered, the store marginally cooler than the Californian afternoon.

“I’ll be right with you!” Jude could barely hear the cheerful voice as everything was so packed into the small space that sound was muffled. Jude felt herself calm nearly instantly. She had really gone balls to the wall on Gabriel - she would have to apologize later, when she returned to the hotel room.

“Yeah, no problem.” She called back. The shop was cozy - the walls were lined with books, and the bookshelves in the center of the floor were also lined with books but also with other things. Ouija boards, dream catchers, African dream root, and enough herbs to make enough hex bags to kill a small city… Jude ran her hand over a display of necklaces, her other clutching to the pendant on her own necklace. She wanted something like that for Lear…

Jude was looking at the bracelets when a familiar face appeared next to her. “I’ve seen you before.” The woman said, appraising her. “Or your Dad. Your Dad ever come in here?”

“Holy shit!” Jude jumped a mile, taking several quick steps back. “Jesus Christ, lady, you scared the fuck out of me.” The woman, who was not much taller than Jude herself, snapped and pointed at the teenager.

“Winchester, right? He bought a necklace. He was with his Dad - he wanted angel warding and anti-possession.” The woman whirled, and her locced hair nearly fell from it’s neat bun on top of her head. “Enochian was a tough carve, but one of my best. I have a picture here!” She presented Jude with a picture of the necklace the girl was wearing, and Jude held it up. “Holy shit! Yeah, that’s it. Some of my best work. So are you Winchester’s kid, or his kid sister? I’m Joan, by the way, but everyone calls me JoJo.”

Jude shook the woman’s, JoJo’s, hand and stuttered. “Uh, his kid. I was just… I’m looking for something similar for my brother. You know my Dad?” JoJo shuffled toward the back of the store, beckoning Jude to follow. She did, but haphazardly. It was packed, and JoJo disappeared behind a counter, digging around in what sounded like nuts and bolts. Jude went up on her toes to try and see, but with no luck.

“Oh, yeah. Your Mom, too, actually. Eleanor Smith, right? A wonderful woman. So sad to hear that she died. I remember you too, Jude, though you were young when your Mom brought you here last time. How are those pills working out for you?” JoJo’s voice should have been muffled, but Jude heard her clear as day. It was like the woman was standing right next to her.

Jude suddenly felt very stupid for leaving the hotel room with no weapons. “What do you know about them?” She reached to her left, feeling the smooth blade of a machete on a shelf and followed it up to the handle. While JoJo was still digging, Jude slipped it off of the rack and held it behind her legs. “I stopped taking them.”

JoJo’s surprised face appeared above the counter, the woman still bent over. Her eyes were wide. “Really? That’s a surprise. You’re getting more powerful, then? I would expect so. You were so powerful when you were here, such a shame that Eleanor thought she had to hide all of that. Really, it was amazing to watch.” She dipped back down, rifling some more. “It’s cool that you’re off of them, though, really. You’ll grow so much.”

“How do you know me?” Jude called out. “How do you know my parents?” JoJo appeared with a necklace that looked like her own - but instead of a square pendant with rounded sides it was just a pentacle. “What’s that?”

“It’s like your necklace, but designed differently. You said you’re here to grab something for your little brother, yeah?” JoJo held her hand out and Jude took the necklace, looking at it. The symbol was smaller, yes, but the carving was still on the other side of the pentacle. “You can have that machete, too, but I’ll have to bag it up for you. California is liberal, but not that liberal. It’s already paid for, too, your Mom left you with loads of store credit.” JoJo grinned, revealing too white teeth.

Jude too several steps back and bumped into one of the bookshelves. “Who are you? What are you?” Her heart hammered in her chest. JoJo just hopped onto the counter, crossing her legs. She looked kind - it seemed to glow out of her cool, dark skin. Looks, however, could always be deceiving. Jude had learned that the hard way with Sam. “How do you know so much about me?”

“I’m Joan, a witch. Not in the supernatural sense, mind you. No hex bags here, no sir! I met your father down South, and I met your mother here in California. I’ve always been interested in meeting you, Jude Winchester. You have such promise as a hunter.” JoJo cocked her head, that stupid smug smile still on her face.

“I don’t,” Jude choked out, shaking her head. She was beginning to have sweaty palms, the machete and necklace white-knuckled in her hands. “I don’t have promise for anything. I’m an abomination.” JoJo took a moment of pause and then laughed out loud. “It’s not funny, man! You don’t get it, I’m a nephilim.” Jude hissed the word, JoJo still looking rather amused. “I’m half demon, and so is Lear and my stepdad is a fuckin’ demon and now I have to worry about him worming his way back up from Hell and finishing the job.”

JoJo cocked her head once more, confusion settling over her features. Jude entertained the thought that it wasn’t fair - even when she looked confused the woman was beautiful. “The supernatural go to Purgatory, dear, not Heaven or Hell.” Jude’s body froze as she tried to wrap her mind around what JoJo had said to her. That meant she’d go to Purgatory when she died, and so would Lear. A whole eternity running from the monsters they killed. And from Desmond… Oh, she was more damned than she thought. “And I know what you are, silly. I wish your mother hadn’t made that nasty deal for those pills. Again, what a shame. She was a good hunter.”

“Do you know what was in them? I know another nephilim - she’s an angel though - and she said her pills had demon blood in them, but diluted. Told me it would be like setting a fuckin’ nuke off if I had taken the same thing.” Jude’s voice was hoarse, her throat dry. Her knees nearly knocked together she was shaking so bad.

“You haven’t figured it out?” JoJo approached her, slowly, and took the machete from Jude. She began to bag it and the necklace. “If a person contaminated with the blood of a demon ingests more, their power is heightened. It’s what happened to your poor Uncle. I’m sure he doesn’t forgive himself, but he should. If a person contaminated with the blood of an angel ingests blood from a demon, it negates the effects of their bloodline. Therefore,” JoJo paused to hand the bag to Jude, who was standing there dumbfounded at the influx of information, “If someone contaminated with the blood of an angel consumes just that, they will find themselves with heightened power. If someone contaminated with the blood of a demon consumes blood from an angel, their powers will be negated.”

Disgust crept up on Jude like a tidal wave. She had to resist the instinctual urge to gag. “I was taking pills filled with angel’s blood?”

JoJo nodded, a small smile on her face. It was sad, though. Like she could feel how disgusted Jude was. “I’m afraid so, Darling.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jude felt like she might vomit. How had Molly seemed so casual when she had mentioned it was diluted demon blood? Jude felt dirty, felt like she was responsible for a nameless, faceless angel’s suffering. That’s what demons did, Jude thought, and she was a demon. Jude had never felt closer to Hell than in that moment, and apparently she had a special connection, as Castiel had said.

Oh, another thought struck her.

Castiel.

Gabriel.

How would she tell them? How would she face them, knowing that their blood was one of the only things that kept a lid on her abilities? She could tell them, not on her own. How would she tell Dean, and Sam? They already thought she was too dangerous to live in the bunker, they were already planning to send her away? Jude stopped short when she realized that, in theory, she didn’t have to tell any of them anything.

The information steeled Jude’s resolve even further. No matter what Gabriel said, she wasn’t going back to the Winchesters. She would become Sunny Smith again, or Jude Smith, or any version of herself that Dean and Sam wouldn’t be able to track down. She would disappear into the ether, taking Lear with her so she’d never have to face who she was again. It was a cowardly move, and Jude knew that, but it was her only option. “Thank you so much for these, I’m so sorry. I have to go right now.”

JoJo called out a parting word as Jude rushed back out through the shop, tripping in her haste. The young girl didn’t hear it over the whirling thoughts in her head. She struggled with the door and when it opened Jude practically fell out of it. She landed hard on her hands and knees, scraping them good. Scrambling to her feet, she turned to look at the shop she had just tumbled out of.

It was gone and in its place was a tattoo parlor with very confused looking patrons. Jude sucked in a breath and closed her hand around the handle of the bag she was holding. It was proof that her experience was real and not just a visit from Hell or something. It was proof that she had to get back to the hotel and get the fuck out of dodge before Gabriel realized she was ditching him.

That would be hard to do, especially since Jude was pretty sure he was on Bail Alert - it was all she had talked about since she had prayed to him. It would be tricky, but Lear would be warded from angels the same way she was. Once they made their break, it would be nearly impossible to find them.

Jude formed a plan as she walked back to the hotel: she’d tell Gabriel that she was taking Lear out to dinner, put the necklace on Lear, and then disappear. Then, when Gabriel left the hotel room to look for them she’d sneak back in and get their things. It was a solid plan to the thirteen year old girl.

She kept the act up until she excused herself to shower again, running over the plan again and again while she just let the water run. She wet her hair to make it look like she had actually showered, and then changed into a Henley and sturdy jeans. Perfect running clothes. Jude exited the bathroom, turning the light out after her, and met Gabriel’s eyes. His face was one of panic and dismay. “I’m sorry,” He said it like it explained everything, “Castiel reached out to me and when I answered he got a hold on my location. I didn’t mean to, Jude, I swear.”

Jude kicked into overdrive before she could fully process what was happening. She worked on waking up a confused and dazed Lear. He had showered at some point, and changed into pajamas but Jude dressed him in jeans and a t-shirt as quickly as she could without hurting the boy. “Wha’s happenin’?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Just get ready, bud, I’ll explain later.” Jude pointedly avoided looking at Gabriel as she packed the new machete in her bag, slipping the necklace around Lear’s neck. “Don’t!” Jude snarled when Gabriel attempted to grab her arm to gain her attention. “Lear and I are leaving. Don’t look for us.” She heaved the bags over her shoulders and took Lear’s hand. She felt the guilt well inside of her - he was shaking, and looking at her like she had grown another head. She was doing that to him - it was all her fault.

Gabriel put himself between the children and the door, just before the door opened behind him. “If you think you’re runnin’ again, Jude, you got another thing comin’.” Dean’s voice was low, and rough. Jude met his eyes over Gabriel’s shoulder and froze, terror filling her. Castiel stood behind him, looking just as angry as Dean himself did. Oh, Gods, Jude thought, they were there to kill her. They were there to kill her.

Gabriel looked between the two groups, trying to make a decision, before extending one hand toward each pair. “Eat a Snickers,” He said, holding out said candy bar to Dean and Jude and looking rather hopeful that it would work, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”


	15. “it’s not so pleasant and it’s not so conventional. it sure as hell ain’t normal, but we deal, we deal.”

**content warnings: mention of parental death, arguments, self-worth issues, depictions of intense guilt, parental anger, mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse**

\- [playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F404oG0o7ew6ZcmrzOo5y8h%3Fsi%3DSq62MRNfRXK98SfkL-Vw3Q&t=NDdiNTEzMWRjMjJkNDkzNzUzMmY1YTBkMTg3OWNkYjRlZDViYWEzMixWM2M5b1cxNg%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F613316007703003136%2Fch15-its-not-so-pleasant-and-its-not-so&m=1) -[ pinterest board](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Flwiwriting%2Fch-jude-winchester-lear-smith%2F&t=ZTdmMjM2NjE1NGU5OGFlNmJmYmZiYWM0ZDE5ODU2NGQ0ZDc3NTViMSxWM2M5b1cxNg%3D%3D&b=t%3AyVg5PkKFcmDKFop6VmQ-dQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnightowlwriting.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F613316007703003136%2Fch15-its-not-so-pleasant-and-its-not-so&m=1) \- [story masterlist](https://nightowlwriting.tumblr.com/post/189556311739/this-was-my-nanowrimo-project-for-this-year) -

Jude pushed Lear back behind one of the beds when Dean lunged forward, landing a solid fist to Gabriel’s jaw. She did her best not to shriek as Gabriel threw Dean back into Castiel and then slashed a knife through the nearest wall. Jude held out her hand, silently telling Lear that he shouldn’t move.

Castiel towed Gabriel back into the hotel room and shut the door behind him. “You’re lucky that I don’t kill you.” Dean jabbed a finger at Gabriel. “You kidnapped our kids, God dammit!” Jude wanted to cry out, to tell Dean that he got it all wrong, but her throat wasn’t working. It was dry and she was scared. Castiel hadn’t moved his gaze from her, his normally liquid eyes hard and icy blue. It sent shivers down her spine - he looked dangerous. “And you!” Dean whirled on her, trying to rein himself in. He took a deep breath. “You had no right to scare me like that. To scare Cas like that.”

Jude’s chest heaved and she felt the hot air balloon of Lear’s fear expand. She took control of it, hand that was held out toward him clenching. “You have no right to say that I scared you.” Her teeth ground together, muffling her words.

“Like hell I don’t!” Castiel finally moved into action, jerking Dean backward by the man’s shoulder. “Cas - you can’t tell me not to yell. She ran away.” Gabriel, who had been silent since he had gotten decked, moved toward the desk.

“You should talk to them, Jude.” He shrugged. “I’ll be back.”

“Gabriel, no!” She cried, but he was already gone. She clenched her jaw so hard stars burst in front of her eyes. Castiel was still gripping Dean, still glaring at her. He looked like he hated her, and Jude’s chest ached at the thought.

“Ask her why.” Castiel commanded Dean. “Ask her why she ran.”

“It doesn’t matter why!” Dean’s voice cracked, breaking in the middle of his sentence. Jude could see him crying again and her chest tightened. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter why she ran. She ran. She abandoned us.” Jude’s control over Lear wavered and the bed shifted a few inches forward.

“You didn’t want me!” Jude lost control then - and that was when she realized it wasn’t Lear who was near exploding. It was her. The furniture was pushed away from her in all directions and Lear scrambled back toward the wall, crying. “And you didn’t want Lear!” She fought for control over herself, but she was struggling. Jude curled in on herself, hands pressed to her head and clenched in fists.

Lear clambered onto the bed, eyes wide and wet. She could feel the regret mixing with the fear to make something dark, and toxic inside of her. Jude let out a shuddering breath, but couldn’t keep the air balloon from expanding. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, Lear was gone.

She panicked, but then Gabriel’s voice was in her head telling him that he had taken Lear back to the beach. There was no need for the child to see his sister - his sister who has always had it together and protected it - lose her walnuts. “I heard you say it.” Jude accused, her eyes still on the floor as she cried. “You said it.”

“I thought we cleared this up!” Dean wiped his tears on the back of his hand, tossing the other in the air. “I want to be your father. I want you in my life, Jude. I’ve missed twelve damn years of being your Dad, and I’m not gonna miss anymore!” His voice rose, and Jude flinched. She wanted to believe that he’d never hurt her, but she had heard what she heard.

“If you had a problem, you should have spoken to one of us, Fledgling.” Castiel stepped forward and took Dean’s hand. “We are, as Dean says, a family. Family fixes things, they do not run from whatever is wrong.” Jude made an affronted noise and the lightbulbs in the hotel room blew. Her hands were shaking, trying to physically hold on to something that was metaphysical. She felt herself begin to cry harder, hot tears of anger rolling down her cheeks.

“Family fixes things? Like hell it does! I heard you, Dean.” She spit his name like and Dean flinched, his whole body recoiling as if he was in physical pain. Jude hadn’t called him that since the first time she had called him Dad. “I heard you agree with Sam to send me away. You were gonna dump me on Ellen, and on Jo, as if they don’t already have one fuckin’ nephilim to deal with.” Jude felt like her very bones were rattling in her skin.

Dean, if possible, paled more and more with each word Jude spoke. “How’d you hear that?”

Castiel closed his eyes, sighing deep in his chest. “Molly told you, then? How to move yourself to another realm of existence?”

“Yeah,” Jude grunted, dropping her hands to her sides. “That’s not what she called it, but yeah. But it doesn’t matter. None of it fuckin’ matters, because I was right! Me and Lear are just some pity project, some mystery for you to unravel and throw away. I’m nothin’ but a fuckin’ replacement, and everyone knew but me!” Jude’s voice rose a roar and when it fell silent she felt herself jolt back to the ground as if she had been floating. She pressed her nails into her palms as hard as possible to ground herself, the bite of physical pain making it easier.

“What do you mean you’re a replacement?” Castiel demanded. “There is nobody to replace!”

“Cas.” Dean warned in a low voice, looking toward the angel. He almost looked scared.

“My father was a man with ulterior motives, I will admit that. But he did not make replacements. He made every human on this Earth with intent, motive, and dedication!”

“Cas.” Dean warbled again.

“It is insulting to think that you are less than, or created differently than your brethren on Earth!” HIs voice boomed, echoing around the room. Jude could have sworn she even heard it reverberate in her head, as if he was speaking directly in to her brain.

“Oh, you’re the one to talk!” Jude roared back at Castiel, surprising him. Her nostrils flared. “You’re always talking about how stupid humans are, or how angels are so much more advanced.” Dean looked at Jude, exasperated.

“It is because we were made to be more advanced, Jude. We were made to be abandoned by our father and to watch over the humans!” Castiel seemed indignant, and it made Jude’s blood boil.

“Oh, boohoo!” She crowed, mocking Castiel. “You were fully grown when you were left, oh how sad! You didn’t have a Mommy or Daddy to braid your feathers, left all alone as a Celestial being with plenty of ways to protect yourself.” Jude felt like she was experiencing every emotion at once, and Castiel looked like he was experiencing true anger for the first time. Good, Jude thought, maybe if I hurt him enough he’ll convince Dean to leave me and Lear alone.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Jude. Your words are encroaching on dangerous territory.” Castiel’s growling voice didn’t scare Jude - she had already fallen back into that old pattern of egging people on until they reached their breaking point. It was familiar, and she wondered if the sting of pain would be, too, if one of the men in front of her snapped.

“Newsflash, Castiel: Desmond beat the fuck out of me almost every single day. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got more Daddy Issues than you and Dean combined, so pardon me if I’m not more empathetic to the plight of heaven. The brake lines on my fuckin’ empathy car were cut a long time ago.” Jude clenched her fists, and tried to rein in her anger. “The fact of the matter is: Sam only wanted me around to replace some girl named Emma. I won’t be a replacement.”

Castiel stepped forward, letting go of Dean’s hand. “As I have said, Jude, before you insulted my upbringing, my life, and my people: my father did not make replacements.” His snarl matched Jude’s, but it was Dean who broke first. “Every human was crafted with intent and a goal in mind, so how would you replace that?”

“JUDE! CAS!” Dean jumped, as if he didn’t realize he was going to yell until he did. “Cas, stop. I know what she’s talking about. Jude, stop being a dick to Cas.”

“I’m not human, though, am I?” Both Jude and Castiel ignored Dean as if he had not even spoke. “I’m a fuckin’ monster, Cas. Do you know what was in those pills, huh? Found out today. I’ve been sucking down pills filled with angel blood.” She watched as both men were unable to hide the repulsion on their faces - disgust curled in her gut again. In some fucked up way it made Jude feel good that they thought it was vile. It was like it validated every thought that she had about herself, made them true. That’s how that worked - if Dean and Castiel were disgusted with her, then she was right to think the way she did. It made sense to Jude. “Makes Sammy right, doesn’t it? I’m nothing but a monster who needs removed or put the fuck down. You don’t have to lie to me, I’m a big girl.”

“Don’t say that.” Dean said, marching forward to wrap his hand around Castiel’s wrist, but Jude knew it was just a knee jerk reaction. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“I’m not her, Dean.” Jude snarled, getting tired of the back and forth. Castiel didn’t look angry anymore - he looked deeply saddened. The look on his face paired with the desperation in Dean’s voice was making it very hard for Jude to stay angry and keep on her plan of disappearing. “I’m not. I don’t know what sick game Sam was playin’, but I can’t live in place of a ghost. I’m a monster too, and if he killed your other kid he might as well kill me for the same thing.” Castiel looked to Dean, more confused than anything. Dean was gritting his teeth, still crying. “He was playin’ house and I was fuckin’ falling for it. I let myself believe that you and Sam and Cas wanted me, wanted Lear. But you don’t. Because we’re demons, Dean. And I’m the worst one! I’ve been eatin’ fuckin’ angel blood for years.” She sneered the word, fighting for control. “So don’t tell me you want me. Don’t lie to me. If it were just me, I’d go ahead and let you kill me. But I won’t let you kill Lear, and I’m the only one who’s gonn’ take care of him so that means I gotta keep breathin’ too.”

“Sam was out of line when he said those things.” Dean stepped closer to Jude again, Castiel moving with him. She clenched her teeth even tighter so that the semblance of control she had on her abilities didn’t loosen. “He had no right to do what he did or say what he said, but that does not mean that you are a replacement for Emma.”

“Am I?” Jude challenged. “Am I replacement? Am I just another monster to fill her spot?”

“Stop calling yourself a monster!” Dean exploded, his voice raw with emotion. It shocked Jude into silence, her eyes wide and her hands finally falling limp against her side. “You are not a monster. You are a child born into circumstance, just like Emma was! You have control - she was going to kill me! Do you think I wanted Sammy to kill her? Do you think I wanted to watch my daughter die? I didn’t, but she had killed and she was goin’ to kill again, you hear me?” Dean’s chest was heaving, his eyes shining with tears and passion. “I would never let Sammy lay a hand on you, even if you were fixin’ to kill me. I’d rather die than let history repeat itself - and that goes for Lear, too. He’s just as much my kid as you are, Jude. Why can’t you see that?”

“Yeah, and what about Sam?” Jude caught some steam again, gesturing out to the side with one of her hands, “He won’t want me back in that bunker. What’s this shit about him bein’ like me? What’s this shit about him bein’ contaminated?” Dean ran a hand down his face, and shuddered like he was repressing a sob.

“Sam was given the blood of a demon by Azazel when he was six months old. The same was going to happen to you, but your mother made a deal with the demon instead. Sam then began to grow more powerful as he aged, eventually discovering that when someone who is contaminated consumes that of which is contaminating them they will increase in power. It is not something he is proud of, and he struggles with it nearly every day. He was supposed to be the Boy King, the ruler of hell. That was Azazel’s plan for him. Sam is sensitive to the subject, and that is why he has been lashing out.” Castiel spoke when it was clear Dean was unable to. Jude sucked in a breath, her lungs burning as she tried her best to stop crying.

She was so sick of crying.

“He didn’t mean it,” Dean finally choked out. “Those things he said. When I figured out you two were gone he was goin’ just as crazy about it as I was.” Dean curled in on himself and refused to look Jude in the eye. “He ‘bout lost his voice apologizing to me for what he said. He’s scared, Jude. He’s scared everything is ruined 'cause of him.”

“It might be.” Jude jerked her chin up, feeling more confused than not. Her head was spinning three million miles an hour, and she just wanted her life to be okay for one moment in time. “It might go balls to the wall because he’s right. Lear and I can’t control ourselves. Molly has Cas and Gabriel, but we don’t have shit. I don’t have shit. I don’t have nothin’ but what my Mom gave me, and even then it’s not enough. And none of this shit explains why you agreed!” Jude’s voice rose again, more tears pooling and running down her face. “You said yes to sending me away!” Jude’s voice broke.

Dean scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you thought you heard, but I’ve been to Hell, kid. And I’d rather go back on that rack before I sent you away.” He pointed a shaking finger at Jude. “I love you, Jude. When I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought I was goin’ to lose it. The only thing I agreed to with Sammy was that I had to work on bein’ a better father to you and we had to sit you down to talk about this civilian shit you’ve been tryin’ to pull at the bunker.” Dean separated from Castiel, but he didn’t make it far in the way of getting close to Jude. It was like she was keeping him away without meaning to - like she had been teaching Lear to do with the ocean water.

She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Jude was beginning to calm down, then, feeling much more like a kid than she had when Dean first appeared at the hotel. She tried to convince herself it was because she was tired, but it was really because she wanted her Dad. She wanted Castiel to not be angry at her, even though he had every right to be. She wanted to not be so tired of living, and wanted to enjoy it for more than a day or two at a time.

“I just wanted to prove to you two that I could be good. That I wasn’t a monster or some angry punk ass kid, but that’s all that Sam can see when he looks at me.” Her voice was small, wavering, and hurt. Dean and Castiel looked heartbroken - that was when Jude realized something must have changed between them. Dean had told Castiel, like she had advised him to. He had actually listened to her. Nobody had ever listened to her before - well, not an adult at least.

“Sam’s dealin’ with his own shit, Sweetheart. He sees himself as a monster, and he sees himself in you. Of course he’d make that connection, but that don’t mean it’s true.” Dean shook his head, unashamed of the way he was crying. “And what’s this bullshit about wanting to be good? Jude, you are good.”

Something about the raw honesty in his voice set Jude off again. “I’m not!” She shrieked, everything moving in arcs away from her again - even Dean and Castiel stumbled backward. “I’m not good! I’m not good enough to be your daughter, or to be Sam’s niece, and I’m tainted with the blood of Castiel’s brothers and sisters and I am not enough!” Jude stomped her feet, falling to her knees. It didn’t matter what she said, because if she held it in any longer she felt like she would die. “So I had to pretend to be good! A good daughter does the dishes, and cooks the food, and cleans the house, and takes care of the children. She does her homework and teaches her brother and she doesn’t hunt even though she can’t breathe without hunting so she sends cases away to be assigned by someone else and she doesn’t clean her weapons because it’s not what good daughters do!” Her voice was raw as she screamed, eyes clenched shut. Jude felt like she was losing her mind. “I just wanted to be good, and to be loved. I just wanted to have what Lear has with Sam, but I won’t ever get that because I’m not good.” Jude was sobbing, clutching herself as if that would keep her from completely falling apart. “I’m not good. I’ll never be good.”

Her control warbled, and then her hold on the room fizzled out. Dean and Castiel were able to move toward her, and they both fell to their knees next to her at the same time. Dean scooped Jude into his arms, shushing her as every emotion was forcibly removed from her chest as she sobbed. She didn’t hear anything he said to her, only felt his arms wrapped around her and Castiel’s hands on her back.

Jude didn’t want to, but she felt loved. She wanted Dean to be mad at her, and wanted Castiel to rebuke her for the hurtful things that she had said to him. She didn’t deserve the love they were giving her, the blanket forgiveness for the way that she had run and the things she had said. Jude was lost without the cold anger that Desmond had always given her.

She didn’t know how to react to Dean whispering to her, his voice low and hurt. “You don’t have to pretend to be anything, kid. You don’t have to change who you are for me to love you. I’ve loved you, and had the honor of being your father, since I sat you down in that diner all those fuckin’ months ago. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, that I made you feel like you weren’t good enough. I’m sorry that I didn’t see how Sammy was hurtin’ you. I’m sorry I haven’t been the Dad you need. I promise I’ll get better, and Sammy too. We’ll work together, honey. We’ll work together.”

Dean pressed a kiss into Jude’s temple as he rocked her, and Castiel leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead. It was like a closed circuit of comfort and Jude clutched Dean’s jacket, sniffling. “Why do you care about Lear so much? I don’t understand.” Her voice was hoarse, raw, and nearly silent. “He’s not related to you, he’s not blood. He’s just another demon kid that you have to worry about. Another burden I dragged into your life.” Dean squeezed his arms tighter around Jude and gave a watery chuckle.

“He’s your brother.” Dean said, like it explained everything. “He’s your family. Family don’t end in blood, kid, and it don’t start there either. You’re not just my daughter by blood, but by our choices. It’s the same for Lear. I don’t share any bond with him other than the choice to be his father - if you both will let me.” Jude’s lip wobbled and she started sobbing again, nodding into Dean’s chest. “I know we have a lot to talk about, so much to talk about, kid. There’s so much I have to explain, and tell you, but for right now, can we just take you two home? I just want you home, honey, I just want to take you home and know you’re safe.” He cried into her hair, holding her like she was the most precious thing on earth. How was Jude supposed to react to that tenderness? She almost couldn’t process it.

Jude felt Castiel’s hands leave her back and then he was helping Dean stand. She was still curled in Dean’s arms, crying but not as awfully hard as before. “Dad,” She whimpered, “I want to go home. I just want to be home. I want to see Sam, and I want to sleep in my own bed, and I want Lear to have a home where he feels safe.”

“Okay, honey, we’ll take you and Lear home. Sam’s there - he’s worried about you, kid. We’ll sit down and we’ll have a nice, long talk about everythin’, okay? No more leaving you in the dark, honey. No more. Can you stand for me?” Jude nodded and when she was standing on her own she wiped underneath her eyes. They were sore, just like her throat. Jude avoided Dean’s gaze, shame welling up in her. She was tired of feeling in general, but more shameful of the things that had happened that day. It was eating her up inside.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I just…”

Dean swooped back to her, his large hands cupping her face. He kissed her forehead and shook his head as he looked into her eyes. Jude could practically see the honesty there. She barely made note of the pronoun he used when he spoke. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Jude. Nothing. And even if there was, we would have already forgiven you.”

Jude nodded, her hands clasped around his wrists. She smiled, trying to keep her voice even. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Jude.” Dean smiled, “Let’s go get Lear and take you two home, okay?”


End file.
